


A hazy shade of winter

by YellowOblivion



Series: A hazy shade of winter [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: AU, Actual Murder, Backstory, Child Abuse, Discussions of Murder, Emotional Manipulation, F/F, Forced Pregnancy, Found Family, Hurt/Comfort, Murder, Time Travel, canon compliant character death, marital rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-19 23:00:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 86,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1487311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YellowOblivion/pseuds/YellowOblivion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snow has ruined two children's lives, no matter what she tried, and all she can think is that perhaps she was born to hurt them, to twist them up inside until they fit together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. See what's become of me

**Author's Note:**

> So HUGE thanks to my Beta: Rollingwithimpunity who is like ridiculously amazing? Like, definitely there was no way this was getting done with out you, you put up with me, and you are the greatest.
> 
>   
> **Art by** [bowlerhatgirl](http://bowlerhatgirl.tumblr.com).  
>   
>   
>   
>   
> [MIX HERE](http://8tracks.com/bowlerhatgirl/i-walked-with-you-once)  
> 
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks to Deemn for really insightful discussions on building a world that isn't monochromatic! And also goat jokes!
> 
> General Things!: This fic starts from a little after the end of the Cricket Game, that's where we just ditch canon. Some INFO: The whole peter pan thing is just not happening. This includes any backstory pertaining to it, for instance, Henry almost getting adopted by the Darling brothers. That never happened. Also Neal, what is a Neal, no one knows. He probably exists but not by name. 
> 
> Warnings: There are warnings at the beginning of every chapter, however this fic features a lot of murder, discussion of murder, some actual murder. A lot of implications of, repercussions of, and explicit discussion of marital rape. Portrayal of triggers and mentions of nightmares. Those will appear in almost every chapter. 
> 
> There are also references here and there to random fairytales/nursery rhymes? Most oc's are based on those.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CWs for this specific chapter include: Alcohol usage, Vomit, mentions of marital rape, child abuse, emotional manipulation, gun usage, murder.

Emma Swan is only a third of the way through a bottle of Jameson and really not drunk, maybe only a little drunk, and absolutely off duty. She tried looking up potions for magical inebriation, potions shouldn’t be so complicated, they were all really complicated and required knowing magic, what’s so magical about putting random plants into a pot, she could catch a newt probably, she wouldn’t want to pick out its eyes, but she’s sure she could catch one, really, but that didn’t work out and she wouldn’t be able to do it, even now that she has magic, she’s a magic princess what the fuck. A really only slightly drunk magic princess, who snuck into the library after hours, she’s the sheriff she has the authority. Drunk magic princess sheriff. Slightly drunk magic princess sheriff…and ex-professional lock-picker.

  
  


It’s not like she really found anything she could use. The closest she got to magical inebriation was a book on sleeping spells. Regina probably has books on magical inebriation, though considering she has some kind of alcohol in almost every room in that stupid mansion, she probably wouldn’t need the stupid book. Emma doesn’t even know why those books were in the library to begin with, she really can’t help feeling there should be some kind of restricted section. As the sheriff, it’s really probably her job to fix it…but this whiskey is really good right now and tomorrow there’s Regina to find, Cora to find, possibly Hook to find, and Henry to comfort, and if some jackass really wants to slip a botched sleeping spell into someone’s drink, she’ll deal with it when it happens.

  
  


Really she should be working on the whole finding people thing before all of this blows up. But she spent all day with Henry searching for Regina and that was just, really an incredibly disappointing bust. She wasn’t hiding in her cider cellar, probably; if there was a secret compartment Emma’s not good enough at magic to find it, and Gold had been unsurprisingly unhelpful when they had called to ask. Regina wasn’t hiding in city hall, probably, she wasn’t hiding at the new playground, probably, and she also probably wasn’t hiding in the clock tower. Probably. Really after a certain point, it became clear that they wouldn’t be able to find Regina without magic. So Emma had taken a dejected Henry home and asked Ruby to start patrolling. There’s really no polite way to ask someone to use their enhanced werewolf senses to find someone; it’s just…one of the many stressors of the day that contributed to this little binge. It’s not so much a binge really. She can hold her liquor until she can’t, she can find the toilet after that point, make her way to her bed, and then struggle through a hangover, a binge is when the hangovers only end with a drink. She’s not there. She won’t ever be there again, Regina’s out of the picture right now, sort of, so she has to take on raising Henry, and drinking herself to vomit is probably not a good first step, it’s definitely not a good first step, she will not be any of her foster parents, turning her on her side will not be on the list of Henry’s chores.

  
  


Regina, was probably a good mom, really probably a really good mom. Henry turned out pretty great, and if she’s honest it’s not his genes. She’s technically an ex-con and his father is the guy who framed her, really she hopes he manages to avoid his genes. But he’s sweet, and really smart, and actually kind of manipulative, and the last two descriptors are definitely from Regina, though the very last one isn’t so great of a thing, he’s ten, he shouldn’t be so good at convincing her to do shit. That part’s all Regina, Henry convinces her to stay in town, Regina convinces her to slay a dragon, Henry convinces her to save Regina’s life. And then everything went to shit, with a bunch of fucking trees and ogres and castles and suddenly her gun is useless and goddamit she’s really really tired of them convincing her to do shit. Henry’s her kid, that’s like his job, it’s like he works in retail on commission or something, so it’s okay, he has to earn a kid living. But where the hell does Regina get off.

  
  


Emma finishes the glass she has only been nursing, she has really been trying to slow down, but fucking Regina makes her so mad. So mad, she’s gonna pour another glass, and slam that down. It’s not like Regina can judge her for drinking while Henry’s in the apartment, besides Mary Margaret is also an adult, and also around, and it’s not like she’s really a sloppy drunk, she is really really not, really she’s a smooth and uptight drunk. It’s not even fair, she’s always been a smooth and uptight drunk, she’s never been sloppy, really, but then she had to go and break the curse, sort of, and now Mary Margaret and everyone else had to go and change. She didn’t even really want anything to change. If Regina hadn’t been such a raging bitch, if she hadn’t tried to frame Mary Margaret and also if she hadn’t poisoned that fucking turnover, everything would have been fine, could have been fine, except, really, there were a few things that weren’t fine, but they weren’t dragon under the library bad, just normal everyday human being bad. And it’s not really like the people have really changed for the bad, now they’re just…different…almost unrecognizable.

  
  


She belches loudly. She’s satisfied for a moment, until she begins to wonder why she can feel acid in the back of her throat. That’s not how belches taste. This belch should taste like whiskey or the hastily made macaroni and cheese that Snow, Mom, Mary Margaret cooked for dinner. Everything sucks, she can still buy kraft at the grocery store, but it won’t be Mary Margaret cooking it because she changed. And now, apparently whiskey and macaroni and cheese belches turn into stomach acid belches and everything really really sucks.

  
  


Really it’s all Regina’s fault. So it’s not entirely Emma’s fault that they were wrong about her killing Archie, or really Archie even being dead. Now that she thinks about it, there’s really something there she should probably be thinking about…but she’s having trouble reaching for what it is. Probably also Regina’s fault. If she hadn’t run away, they could have solved all of this already. The Regina she knows wouldn’t have run, She would have argued more or cursed them or stolen Henry or really even something really ridiculous like stir up a tornado or set town hall on fire or something. But she ran.

  
  


It’s weird shit like that that makes Emma think she doesn’t really know Regina at all. And Emma really fucking hates that, it’s awful, it makes her feel like maybe she should know more about Regina, and she doesn’t want to, all she wants to know is what she needs to know, and all she needs to know about Regina is whether or not Regina is able to harm someone or is plotting to harm someone. Maybe a few days ago she would have wanted to know about Henry growing up, hell, maybe when they first met she maybe would have really wanted to know everything about Regina. But now, all she wants to know is where the fuck Regina went, and maybe later she’ll want to know those other things after all, but not right now, right now she’s tired and only tipsy, not really drunk, but right now she doesn’t understand Regina and she needs to so they can find her, and Henry can stop looking so guilty.

  
  


Really they can’t be blamed for suspecting Regina of murdering Archie, the woman is unstable, an eight year old tells a secret and she spends the next, what, fifty years trying to ruin the poor kid’s life. What is that about? And how the fuck old is Regina, woman must be really fucking old. Emma sips her drink again, slowly, daintily even, she’s a princesss, it’s a really really futile attempt to simultaneously continue drinking and stop the floor’s slow move to the wall, the floor is moving. She’s gonna bring that up next time she sees Regina, call her grandma and everything. That will really piss her off. Regina looks really pretty when she’s pissed off. Like a…like a really really pretty lady. There are pretty ladies, there are really pretty ladies and then there are really really pretty ladies, and if Regina wasn’t such a bitch, Emma would go so far as to call her like, ten miles above really really pretty. And Emma knows a lot about really really pretty ladies, she’s dated a few and kissed more.

  
  


And now she’s at that point where she really needs to find the toilet.

  
  


She stumbles from the kitchen where she has been drinking in the dark, there really is nothing shameful about drinking in the dark, really, it just means she’s nice enough to…not disturb everyone else.

  
  


“Emma!” Snow hisses, and when the fuck did she get out of bed, and how long has she been sitting on the couch, is that even the couch?

  
  


“Emma! How long have you been drinking? It’s past eleven!” This is her mom. She does not need supervision, really, she is an adult, she has contact lenses she can see fine. She belches again, and this time there’s more than stomach acid, there’s the whiskey and also dinner, oh god. Emma claps her hands over her mouth. Snow rushes forward and puts her hands on Emma’s shoulders, leading her to the bathroom. She strokes Emma’s back and pulls up her hair as she vomits into the toilet.

  
  


“Oh Emma, really?”

  
  


Emma laughs, her throat hoarse and eyes tearing from the heaving.

  
  


“Really.”

<>

  
  


Regina Mills wakes up and feels her neck spasm. Flinching, she leans forward and rubs it, attempting to ignore the cotton in her mouth. She had fallen asleep in a chair, her head tilted at an uncomfortable angle, dark hair splayed over a brown cheek. The chair itself is a relic from her days as the Queen of Galabond, red velvet and black gold, from her days of extravagant darkness. It’s a fine chair, so unlike the white and black decor of her hideout in its grandeur, but certainly not meant for sleeping, her back is hurting her in ways that tell her that though she doesn’t appear as old as she really is, she is still no longer seventeen.

  
  


After Emma’s betrayal, she had appeared below her mausoleum in a cloud of purple smoke, angry and hurt. She had thought that perhaps Henry could still be swayed, could still see sense. But he had believed Emma, and her word has been useless against Emma’s for months. So she has gone to the only place she knows she will be undisturbed. And she’s sure, she’s positive in fact, that she should be thinking of ways to fix this, to prove definitively that she is no longer the monster they declared her, that she is good, she’s been trying, she can be what they all want her to be, which is accepting of what they’ve left her. But she was only willing to do that when they left her anything at all, when Henry wasn’t made to fear her with lies. Now they would want her to place her head on the execution block, no they’re different here, Snow and Charming and the rest of the town are willing to acquiesce to the whims of the savior, so they’ll take her magic, all she has to protect herself, and they’ll lock her away. She cannot allow that to happen, she will not kneel before the executioner, the savior of anyone but her, not now when she can cast fire from her hands, she will not go back to the days when she had to kneel. She won’t allow them to take her. But she is tired of fighting.

  
  


She had not even meant to sit, she had paced and raged, broken her mirrors only to reassemble them with a flick of her hand. How dare they disbelieve her, how dare they give her hope only to rip it away, and tell her son? Her teeth on edge, holding back tears she’d collapsed into the chair, palm covering her face as her shoulders heaved and shook, she released her angry tears. She had come so close to having a place to rest, to finding something like home, and they had ripped that away from her again and she…She hadn’t understood at first, had been so angry when she first sat in the chair but when she had looked up, she had seen the dresses and remembered.

  
  


Caught up in her sordid memories, she couldn’t help herself, the dresses she wore throughout the days when she’d written her pain across the necks of others in blood and executioner’s swords, they filled her hiding place underneath the mausoleum, they reminded her in excruciating detail exactly why she would never be trusted. But then, when she could no longer tolerate the pain in her pulsing heart, the unforgotten shouts of rage and despair, she forced herself to think of happier times, memories of learning to ride horses with Daniel beside her, far away from Leopold’s castle. Before she had drifted off she had even managed to dredge up memories of her early childhood, far away from Galabond in a minor castle in Ataecina where she wore children’s masks to every tea party and was never alone.

  
  


She had cast those memories to the back of her mind for years, memories of times when there was always someone to hide behind, someone who would protect her from the wrath of the world, when the only wrath she had to fear was her mother’s. And then one day, a day she can pinpoint exactly in her mind, she was nine, nine years old and riding through the infinite forest on a fast horse, her father behind her, his arm wrapped firmly around her waist as they followed her mother. She could hear whistles in the trees and her father’s hand had filled hers full of pipe tobacco before they fled, ordered her quietly to sprinkle it behind her along their path. She had thought then, that she would return one day, she had to return one day, the forest would not turn her around on her way back, would not reject her from her home, not when she had spent years near the borders with her cousins, leaving soup by the forest edge whenever her father and uncles went hunting, so they would be allowed to find their way home, she had thought that she would one day find her way back home.

  
  


But she never did. She lived in cold marble halls that could not serve as relief from the heat outside, because her new home was so very cold, inside and out. She lived there in the places where the lakes actually froze over during the winter, and she saw snow for the first time, it was wondrous yes, but Snow ruined her in the end. And she never found her way back home, never, it happened as she had feared, a child fleeing, she was never to return, was never to call that place home again.

  
  


So she had made her home among the beating hearts, the ones her mother had captured, taken from those who dared command her to kneel, and those she had taken herself, for daring to defy her, daring to love when she could not. In the years after she had been forced to kneel, when she stood again and found her kneecaps had frozen on the marble and cracked, and she could not move forward without fire spilling from her palms to warm her, death from her fingertips to destroy all those who claimed she had not earned the right to be Queen. The walls pulsed and she had long since forgotten to fear them, learned that she would not go heartless, she would take others to keep her own company. In the solemn hours of the night alone in her castle of cold and stone and gray, when it was so freezing, so silent she feared her own heart had stopped beating, leaving her nothing but a ghost with no legacy, only legend of her deeds, she would go down to the place where the hearts pulsed, and her own would pulse in time, and she would think, here is my legacy, here also are my deeds, and in that dark room lit only by the light of those who could no longer love, she had taken what was taken from her, she was not alone.

  
  


Now, she is alone, has never sunk farther, _never_ , she repeats firmly in her head, pushing away memories of the blood in her knees slowing, slowly freezing as she knelt before her mother, before the king, before Snow. Her first home was years and worlds and years and kingdoms away, the hearts no longer beat strongly here, magic is different, and she had home yes, ten years of home, where the world held no wrath, and she was not a mother to be feared, but now that is gone.

  
  


She puts her face in her hands. She wouldn’t go back, she thinks, not back to the days in Ataecina when she had nothing to fear, not even to the days when Daniel lived. Because all the pain that followed led her to Henry, and even though what they had is gone and may never be repaired, she had almost a decade of home with a little boy who thought her name was Mommy and loved her like she’d never sinned.

  
  


She has spent three days beneath the mausoleum when she hears her son calling for her.

  
  


<>

  
  


Emma wakes up drooling with the flat taste of vomit in the back of her throat. It’s a few swallows before she realizes she’s not actually in her bed, her pillows are not so scratchy and don’t usually feel like they’re leaving marks on her face. She must be on the couch.

  
  


Her cell rings again. Who the fuck—

  
  


“Sheriff Swan,” she answers groggily. It definitely is not early enough for her drunkenness to have turned into a hangover. She glances with bleary eyes at the nearest clock and it might say 1 am, might say 3:30? Whatever time it is, she has definitely not had enough sleep since Mar-Mo-Snow left her on the couch to sleep it off.

  
  


“Emma? It’s David. There’s been an accident.” Jesus christ, she can’t even have one really good shameful night of drinking alone in the dark without some crisis. She sits up and runs a pale hand through her messy blonde hair…sticky messy blonde hair. She bolts off of the couch.

  
  


She’s halfway to the bathroom when she remembers to answer David, so no, she’s not entirely sober yet. “What is it David? What happened?” Leaning over the sink, soaking that very upsettingly sticky lock of hair in hand soap and burning hot water, she needs a shower.

  
  


“I don’t really know, I can’t tell. There was some kind of altercation between Gold and Hook, Belle was shot and someone seems to have crashed into the town line.”

  
  


“Jesus,” she mutters, finally satisfied that her hair is more wet than sticky. “Look, where are you?”

  
  


“The hospital. Hook was somewhat injured, Belle seems to have some kind of memory thing going on; I think she went across the town line, and whoever was driving the car was seriously injured.”

  
  


“Whoever was driving the car? Don’t you know who it was? I mean the town’s not that big.” Belle and Gold doing something questionable is really nothing new, David can probably handle Hook as long as he doesn’t trust him, and maybe she’s still a little drunk, but he was a king or something, he should be able to handle this.

  
  


“That’s the thing Em, he came from the other side, from the outside world.”

  
  


Well shit.

  
  


She sighs. “Okay, I’ll head over to the hospital now, just send someone to look after Henry.” She’s in no condition to drive herself anywhere, M-Snow is just going to have to take her, she’s not gonna leave Henry alone, she’s already starting to feel the guilty, and, “Wait, did you say Hook?” Fuckin-

  
  


“Yeah, Emma are you okay?” Jesus, if Hook’s out and about that probably means Cora is too. They’re probably making their move. Which means-

  
  


“Okay, David, I need you to send Ruby to the apartment, tell her to hurry, and you run point at the hospital. If Hook’s moving forward with whatever their plan is, that means Cora probably is too, and considering that she went out of her way to frame Regina, she’s probably going after Regina, which means we have to find Regina first. I need you to get what you can out of Hook, figure out what went on at the town line and how much whoever crashed into it saw. Can you do all that?” Even a third drunk, okay maybe half drunk, she can still give orders, she totally earned that election, Regina can suck it.

  
  


“Yeah, I’ve got it. I’ll send Ruby over now. I’ll call you when I find out more.” He hangs up, and Emma relaxes; she had tensed up under all that sudden responsibility. She is entirely too drunk for this. She moves to the kitchen to start her coffee.

  
  


“Emma,” Snow appears from out of fucking _nowhere_. “I heard everything, and you are definitely not going anywhere. You need to sober up before you can, and coffee won’t do it, you need to rest.” Is this Mary Margaret or Snow or whoever trying to be her mom? She has no idea what that means. She can see bits of Mary Margaret in Snow, in the clothes she wears, in the way she wears her hair, she can’t really wear it more than one way, god Regina’s a bitch. But Snow doesn’t make macaroni and cheese like Mary Margaret did; she can taste the difference even now in the back of her throat.

  
  


“Look m-sn-lady-you,” She’s still so very drunk. “I’m not going to drive myself anywhere; I need you to drive me to look for Regina. Please. I’m just making the coffee so I can be a little more alert, it’ll be a while before Ruby-”

There’s a knock at the door. M-Snow rolls her eyes and walks towards the shoe rack, and Emma, completely confused heads towards door, there’s no way-

  
  


It’s Ruby.

  
  


“How did you-”

  
  


“I ran.” Ruby says nonchalantly.

  
  


“Hi, Ruby!” Snow calls from the other side of the room, her back turned as she puts on shoes.

  
  


“Hey, Snow!” Ruby turns to look at Emma, “Tell me why I’m here?”

  
  


Emma shakes herself. Ruby is a werewolf, this town is full of fairytale characters, she is a princess, she has to get it together. “Hook made his move tonight, so Cora probably will too. She’s after Regina, and while she’ll probably go directly for Regina, she could also try to get to her by taking Henry. Soo…”

  
  


“So you need me to babysit.” Well, that sounds awful.

  
  


“Well that sounds awful. More like…combat babysit.” Jesus, her people skills need work. “Here’s the thing: you’re just about the only person who’s strong enough to protect Henry from Cora, if she comes for him.” Marginally better, but-

  
  


“Yeah, yeah. I’ll keep an eye on him, call you if anything comes up, numbers are on the fridge.” She has got to find some way to apologize to Ruby, they keep making her main part-time deputy duty babysitter.

  
  


“Thanks.” That’ll have to do. She grabs her coffee, and walks to the door, grabbing her coat off the hook as Snow follows briskly behind. She can’t shake the feeling she’s forgetting something though.

  
  


<>

  
  


“Mom! Mom?” Henry’s voice calls. Regina rushes over to the mirror that allows her to see the part of the mausoleum it’s coming from. And it’s Henry looking around, and how did he find her, and why is he here and not in bed at that wretched apartment, are they even watching him, caring for him? He’s started to walk away so she goes and opens the latch on the door and waits. And he’s come through the door and he’s hugging her, he’s actually here and willing to see her, and maybe he’s come to forgive her, or maybe he knows, maybe he realizes that she’s changed, she has changed and wouldn’t kill Archie, maybe everything will be okay.

  
  


“What are you doing here sweetheart? Why aren’t you with Emma?” He steps back and smiles at her, so sweetly, and maybe she can have home again, and it kills her to even think it, but maybe she would kneel again if it meant that Henry would smile at her like this always, in moments like these she’s proud, she’s so proud that she has a weakness, that he is her weakness. 

  
  


“I wanted to see you! I don’t belong with them, they’re not my family, you’re my family!” And this is wonderful, but it doesn’t sound like her baby, her baby rejected her, she can’t, absolutely won’t hold it against him, but her baby hasn’t thought of her as his only family for at least a year, this can’t be Henry could it, it can’t be, if only it could-

  
  


“Where’s Emma? Henry, sweetheart, you can’t just go running out alone in the middle of the night, it’s dangerous now, there’s a murderer on the loose, someone killed Archie and it wasn’t me, I don’t know who did it, but I was framed, it’s just not safe now.” Henry smiles again and this time, it’s smug and part sneer, and familiar, so familiar…

  
  


“I’m fine, Mom, don’t worry. And I know it wasn’t you.”

  
  


“How could you when—” No, no no no, it can’t be, it cannot.

  
  


Henry is consumed by a cloud of purple smoke. “Because I did it.” Gods, it’s her mother, Henry is Cora. And she feels her knees quake, she is nine again and does not understand why her cousins look at her with pity and mistrust, why her mother hauls her from the minor castle and onto a fast horse, clenches a hand and constricts her lungs, tells her to keep quiet, no one will come no matter how she cries, she is on that beast again racing towards an undetermined future, but no, her knees will not give out, she will not kneel to her mother’s wishes again, ever again, she uses the rising rage inside of her to keep herself steady. 

  
  


“You, how did you get here?” She will keep herself even, she will stay calm and present a cool front, her mother has ruined her twice now, likely many more times, it would take the help of Archie for her to realize the full effect her mother has had on her, but he’s dead now and she’s been ruined again and her mother. Her mother is here, and the machinations will never stop.

  
  


Regina feels the prospect of finding home anytime soon fade farther away. 

  
  


<>

  
  


  
  


Snow is sitting in the driver’s seat of the bug quietly and Emma really thinks they should be going, but she’s also pretty sure Snow’s going to chew her out for the excessive drinking, and if they can just get that out of the way, they can go find Regina and everything will be fine. But apparently Snow isn’t going to say anything, so…

  
  


“Look, I know you’re mad, but here’s the thing, m-Snow, this, this is all a lot, and tonight I just needed, I just needed to relax, and okay, I probably relaxed too much, and considering what’s been going on it was probably entirely too much, but see, that’s the point, there’s always something going on and I just…I just needed to relax.”

  
  


Snow sighs. “Emma, I’m not going to judge you for that. I know all of this is a lot for you. But I wish you’d talk to us when you’re getting overwhelmed. I know you might have a hard time opening up to us, because…because you had to grow up alone. And I swear, if there was anyway I could go back and change that, make things better for you, I would but we had to send you through alone, Regina’s curse-”

  
  


“Whoa, that’s not what I was talking about at all. Like in any way, shape, or form.”

  
  


“I know, Emma, but I can’t help feeling that this behavior is because…”

  
  


“Because of what? Because of how I was raised? You didn’t have any hand in how I was raised, so you can’t really complain about how I turned out.”

  
  


Snow’s lips press into a thin line, as though she’s debating on whether or not to continue, “That’s exactly what I’m saying Emma, if it wasn’t for Regina,”

  
  


“Look, here’s the thing, my childhood might have been at least part Regina’s fault, but that doesn’t mean it’s her job to fix the way we are now. This is between me, you, and David, not Regina.”

  
  


“I know that sweetie, I just feel like maybe you’re being too eager to rescue her-”

  
  


“Are you saying we should wait for Cora to get to her and turn her more against us than she already is?”

  
  


“No, Emma, I’m not. I just…I just want you to look at your motives for trying to save her. And I didn’t mean that I would change anything about you.” Snow is looking at her earnestly now. “I just think that maybe you shouldn’t have to be the savior for everyone.”

  
  


What Snow’s saying doesn’t sound entirely truthful, but it also doesn’t ping as an outright lie, and Emma’s already beginning to feel her head pound and she just does not want to argue with Snow anymore tonight. Or ever really.

  
  


“Look, can we just go?”

  
  


Snow looks at Emma incredulously. “You haven’t told me where we’re going!”

  
  


Right, she knew she’d forgotten something.

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


“I’ve been here for a while dear. I know you’re angry, but listen to me.” Cora is simpering, her voice pleading, but Regina won’t give in, she won’t. 

  
  


“Mother, everything you’ve ever done has hurt me. If you want me to listen to you, you have to do something for me first.” She’ll bargain, she’ll make them see that she has changed, that Archie’s death wasn’t her fault, that they can forgive her one day for the lives she has taken and she won’t kill more.

  
  


“Anything my dear, I will do anything for you.” 

  
  


“Come with me, we’ll show Henry and Emma and the two idiots that I haven’t killed Archie, and then you’ll allow them to try you.”

  
  


“Regina darling, I can’t do that.”

  
  


Of course, her mother won’t do what she wants, her mother could never do what she wanted. “You said anything, Mother.”

  
  


“Yes, but darling, you know they will only try me unfairly. They would have me kneel before them,” Regina flinches, but tries to cover it, her mother has no right to complain to her about how much it hurts to kneel. “They would have me killed. You wouldn’t sentence me to that would you? Your own mother? Not when you know they are not as good as they claim.”

  
  


Her mother is right, they’re not as good as they claim, she knows this better than anyone, knows what it means to be in opposition to good and still want, still need and be denied because she would not yield. 

  
  


“I’m sure they’ll be lenient, and you did kill a man. And framed me for it. You’ve killed so many.” Her mother grimaces and reaches out to touch her but Regina steps back.

  
  


Cora smiles. “As have you, my dear, and perhaps they would have forgiven you eventually for all your many sins, but for all the wrong reasons. They would believe you had no reason for killing, had no right to your anger. Snow White would believe all her years that you were truly sorry for killing her father.” Regina sucks in a huge breath and looks down as her eyes fill with tears, she was not thinking on that, refused to think on that, her mother has only been in her life again for five minutes and already she’s hurting. Cora must realize she’s prodded at a tender spot, must realize Regina needs comfort because she steps forward again and places her pale hand under her daughter’s darker chin, gently forces her face to meet her eyes. “I never should have made you marry the king.”

  
  


<>

  
  


Ruby picks up the phone on the second ring. “Emma what’s going on, is everything okay?”

  
  


“Ruby—”

  
  


“Why are you still outside the apartment?” Emma holds the phone away from her ear and stares at it in confusion.

  
  


“How?”

  
  


She can practically hear Ruby rolling her eyes over the phone, and she can definitely hear the snort, “I can hear you over the phone, and I can hear you speaking from your car outside the building. What is it?”

  
  


Right, Ruby is a werewolf with werewolf hearing. Right.

  
  


“Look, can you wake up Henry and give him the phone? I need him for something.”

  
  


“Sure.” She hears the soft thud as Ruby puts the phone down, and she waits as patiently as she can.

  
  


“Emma?” He sounds groggy, she shouldn’t have woken him up, but she really needs him, he’s the one who knows Regina the best.

  
  


“Hey, kid.”

  
  


“Emma, what’s going on, it’s almost three in the morning.” That’s her kid, responsible and everything…that’s Regina’s kid, she’s the jackass who got herself almost too drunk to function while there was at least one serial murder running around the town where she’s sheriff.

  
  


“Look kid, there’s actually a lot going on, but right now, I need your help okay?”

  
  


“Okay.”

  
  


“I need you to think really hard and tell me where your mom might be.” She hears Henry’s frustrated sigh and feels awful for having to continue to push him so much.

  
  


“I don’t know Emma! We looked everywhere.” He sounds like he might start crying soon, and of course he would, he’s only ten, it’s 3 am so he’s probably cranky, and his mom is missing.

  
  


“Henry, please, I just need you to think really hard, but not like before when we were thinking of places she might have magic, or where it would be easy to plot. Where would she go if she was sad or upset?”

  
  


“If she was sad?” Henry sniffles, and god, she should probably just let him go to sleep, this is too much for her, it’s definitely too much for him. “Maybe the graveyard where my grandparents and Daniel were buried? In the…masolum?”

  
  


“The mausoleum, of course.” She glances at Snow, who nods and puts the key in the ignition. “She probably has some lair around there. Thanks kid, I’ll call you back later but get some sleep okay?”

  
  


“Okay. Emma, find her okay? and don’t hurt her, because—” He sounds earnest, but calmer now, hopefully Ruby can get him back to sleep.

  
  


“I know kid, you need your mom.” She smiles affectionately into the phone.

  
  


There’s a pause. “Yeah.” He says quietly, and there’s something off in his voice. But she doesn’t have time to find out what, if Hook moved tonight, Cora’s moving tonight.

  
  


“Okay, gotta go, go back to sleep kid.” She hangs up the phone as Snow puts the car into gear and quickly pulls off.

  
  


<>

  
  


Her mother has almost apologized. Regina knows this is not an apology, despite the soft touch to her chin. Her mother has not apologized for all of the years before Leopold, and the years after for which she was the ultimate cause. But this is the first kind touch she’s had since the night in the diner. It’s the first time in a long time where all she has to do to get affection is just be, but she knows she can’t trust her mother, knows her mother always has an agenda and it’s rarely one in her best interests. 

  
  


Regina leans into her mother’s touch, but her words are sharp. “What do you want, Mother?”

  
  


Cora smiles gently, a quiet gleam in her eye. “Everything you want, my dear. I want to reconcile with my child and give her everything she wants. Regina, no one else in this town cares for you as much as I do, and as long as Snow White and those who follow her are still around, no one ever will. Come with me, trust me, because I love you more than anyone else, and let me fix everything. You can have your town and your son back. Trust me.”

  
  


  
  


Regina steps back from her mother’s hand, Cora lets it fall forlornly to her side. “I can’t do that. I won’t. Please just come and confess with me.” Cora looks heartbroken, but smiles and nods in understanding.

  
  


“Of course my dear. Perhaps you’re right. Perhaps it would be best if it was known that you were not the one who murdered Archie. And because I love you, I will go with you and clear your name. Is that what you want, darling?” 

  
  


She nods. Her mother is giving her that second chance she needs, and though she’s still wary, this could all work out, maybe everything will be okay. And this is the first time anyone has told her that they love her, without prompting, in at least a year. She needs to believe that those words and all of the promises that come with them are true. 

  
  


<>

  
  


Mary Margaret knew how to drive her car, Emma thinks somewhat petulantly as they exit the bug and head onto the graveyard grounds. Snow has no idea how to drive a car as special as the bug, but Emma and Mary Margaret spent a weekend just driving around, because Mary Margaret wanted to know how to drive stick shift, and that just can’t be gone, Mary Margaret can’t just have disappeared, she has to be in there. Emma just doesn’t know where. She signs loudly and is about to complain about Snow potentially ruining her car, when she slams into Snow. Emma takes a few steps back and squints, looking in the direction Snow is staring.

  
  


There are two figures exiting the mausoleum. Emma creeps behind a gravestone and draws her gun, motioning for Snow to follow. As they draw closer to Cora and Regina, Emma’s stomach begins to drop. They sound unsettlingly…not at each other’s throats.

  
  


“Regina, I don’t see why we couldn’t just disappear from inside, instead of walking up all of those stairs.”

  
  


“Because mother, if you had attempted to appear inside the mausoleum, instead of taking the guise of my son, you would have found yourself repelled. There are blocking spells to prevent someone just appearing inside.”

  
  


“Of course there are. Clever.” Emma thinks she sees a faint smile on Regina’s face.

  
  


<>

  
  


Her mother is praising her, and she’s so close to proving that she deserves Henry’s love. All she has to do is get her mother to confess to Emma, and then she just has to trust that they’ll believe her, that her mother will follow through, and everything could eventually be okay.

  
  


Emma jumps out from behind a gravestone and points a gun directly at her mother.

  
  


<>

  
  


  
  


“Emma!” Snow hisses in shock still hiding behind the gravestone. Pointing a gun at someone who has proven time and time again that guns are useless against them is not the correct course of action, ever. And for some reason, Emma has it pointed at Cora’s feet, clearly she’s somewhat intoxicated. This can only end badly.

  
  


Cora raises an eyebrow at the gun and smirks; there is no way this is not going to end badly.

  
  


“I see you haven’t learned, you foolish girl.” Cora raises her hand menacingly as Emma’s trigger finger begins to flex.

  
  


“Sheriff Swan!” Regina waves her left hand and the gun is suddenly pointing at a gravestone, instead of at Cora’s feet. She places her right hand on Cora’s arm. “We were just coming to find you. My mother is willing to confess.”

  
  


Emma struggles against the pull of the gun, which is attempting to hurl itself into the side of the gravestone and not incapacitate Cora, for absolutely no reason other than the fact that Regina is awful and lives only to mock her.

  
  


“Confess to what? And we’ve been looking for you for days, Henry’s-”

  
  


“I know, Henry’s probably been very angry and upset with me. He thinks I killed his…” Regina glances at her mother, “friend. But I didn’t, my mother framed me. She killed Archie.” Emma’s gun is no longer pointed at her mother, and they’re listening to her talk. This is going better than she could have hoped, even if Emma is still attempting to redirect the gun at her mother. She won’t succeed, there’s no way she’s going to be able to bypass the strength of Regina’s magic. Even if she could, the gun’s useless because Regina’s taken all the bullets.

  
  


“Look, here’s the thing, we’ve been searching for you for days because we know you didn’t kill Archie.”

  
  


Regina’s eyes narrow and she glances at her mother, “How could you possibly know that?”

  
  


Emma grins sheepishly. “Because Archie told us. And look, I’m really really sorr-”

  
  


“What do you mean Archie told you? He’s dead.” Regina looks quickly between Emma and her mother; her mother is a skilled witch, but there is no way she’s capable of impersonating an alive Archie, while at the same time convincing Regina that everything will be fine. Everything hasn’t been ruined yet, everything could still be fine.

  
  


“Regina darling, I didn’t kill Archie. I only kidnapped him.” There is some saving grace at least. But then-

  
  


“There was a funeral.” Regina states and looks around at all those currently in the graveyard, hoping someone will get her point.

  
  


Emma’s hands are still tugging at the gun, at this point it’s just so she has something to do, and hopefully Regina will get distracted and stop trying to take it away from her. The gun is her only weapon, she needs her gun, why can’t Regina see that and just let her point it at Cora. She’s a little distracted, but in the back of her mind some fuzzy realization clicks.

  
  


Shit.

  
  


Emma turns her head to Snow, hands still clasped around the gun. “Archie’s not dead but we had a funeral. Who the hell did we bury?” She turns to Cora, snarling, “Who the hell did you kill?”

  
  


Regina turns to her mother, disapproval on her face, and Cora at least has the decency to stop smirking. “I wouldn’t know; it was my first night in town. And besides, I didn’t kill him. He was dead when I found him.” Regina purses her lips but remains silent.

  
  


“Dead of what?” Snow steps out from behind the gravestone and places a hand on Emma’s shoulder. Emma does not let go of the gun, Emma will not let go of the gun, there is absolutely nothing that can make Emma let go of the gun. With the strength of will and her quickly tiring arm muscles, she will pull the gun away from the gravestone and successfully point. It. At. Cora.

  
  


“I don’t know. Perhaps there’s an emerging plague.” Emma snorts, Cora clearly knows nothing about their world…although a plague would be right in line with Storybrooke’s own personal brand of awful.

  
  


“Look lady, I will punch you in the face-”

  
  


“Stop it.” Regina glares at all of them. “We can hash all of this out after my mother gives her full, written confession.” She turns and stares down Emma. “It’s your job as sheriff to take it down. And for the gods’ sakes stop pulling at the gun, you won’t need it. She’s already agreed to come in and confess.”

  
  


Emma feels the pull of the gun lessening. She pulls it away from the gravestone, and begins to reholster. It’s not as easy as it should be, she’s not drunk drunk, but she’s also so very far from entirely sober. Which is not such a terrifyingly awful thing tonight, everything has been going marginally well…Emma’s gun is suddenly very very heavy and her arm jerks down painfully under the weight.

  
  


“Actually, my dear, this is where I take my leave.” Regina quickly turns towards her mother, eyes wide.

  
  


“Mother, what do you mean-”

  
  


“Darling,” Cora tenderly places a hand on Regina’s shoulder. “I was willing to confess, but, as someone who loves you deeply, I can’t just sit by and watch you allow yourself to be taken in by these people again. I can’t understand it, Regina, why would you continue to ally yourself with the people who hurt you so much?”

  
  


Regina looks directly at Emma, ignoring Snow entirely. Then she turns to her mother with a grimace.

  
  


“I really don’t know anymore.” Regina steps towards her mother, leaning into her touch. “Please, just come with me and turn yourself in, I’m sure everything will work out-”

  
  


“Actually,” Snow cuts in, “The entire town needs to vote on your mother’s fate Regina. After all she did kill someone, and we take that very seriously here.”

  
  


Regina snarls at Snow, “You don’t even know who she killed! Whoever it was, no one noticed. And this town does not take murder seriously, George cut someone in half while you and the sheriff were playing tag with my mother in the old world, and nothing was done until O.S. stepped in.”

  
  


Emma eyes bug out, and she stops struggling with her gun, “Wait, what?!”

  
  


Cora gently places a hand on Regina’s arm and turns her to face her. “While this is an interesting conversation on the somewhat deficient state of law in your town, I really must go. You’re absolutely welcome to come with me, darling.”

  
  


Regina hesitates, and Emma is about to open her mouth, to say something, anything to stop Regina leaving with Cora.

  
  


“Regina,” Snow says firmly. “If you leave with Cora, just know you can’t join us.” Regina scoffs. “And Henry will never forgive you.”

  
  


Stepping away from her mother and allowing Cora’s hand to fall from her shoulder, Regina says quietly, shoulders slumping slightly, “I can’t…won’t go with you mother.”

  
  


Cora nods and smiles softly. “Very well, dear. Of course, I will always be there for you should you change your mind. Just call my name.”

  
  


With that Cora disappears in a cloud of purple smoke. The space beside Regina is empty, and she stares at it blankly. The gun drops to Emma’s side.

  
  


<>

  
  


“Well,” Snow starts.

  
  


“Don’t start.” Regina says, her voice flat. 

  
  


“I was just going to say, that while I’m glad to know where your priorities lie, now we have to find Cora, before she actually manages to do whatever she’s up to.” Snow smiles at Emma. “But at least now we’ve found Regina.”

  
  


Regina gives Snow a withering glare, then goes back to looking at the place where her mother stood. Her throat moves up and down for a second, before she swallows heavily and hopes no one heard her. She breathes out a quiet puff of air. She turns and smiles saccharinely at Emma and Snow.

  
  


“ As I’m sure it’s now obvious that I am not Archie’s murderer, I’ll be going.” She moves briskly past Snow but is stopped as Emma grabs her arm.

  
  


“What do you mean you’re going? What about Cora? Okay, what about Henry?” 

  
  


Regina shakes her arm free from Emma’s grip, “I’m going to get Henry, he’s safer with me, until you Charmings can figure out how to deal with my mother. I do ask that you don’t kill her-”

  
  


“It’s funny, Henry said almost the same thing about you.” Regina flinches, but Emma ignores it, “And look, she’s your mother, and you have just as much to lose by her being around. So you’re just going to have to help us get rid of her.”

  
  


Regina swallows again, but answers, her voice wavering. “Right now, I don’t want to see my mother ever again, and I am certainly not in the mood to participate in the witch hunt for her, with you people. Now, I am going to your apartment, and I am going to take Henry home with me. You can come see me in the afternoon. My mother won’t act immediately, she’ll need time to regroup. I need…” She pauses before her voice grows firm. “I will not do this now."

  
  


Emma groans and presses two fingers across the bridge of her nose, but acquiesces in response to Regina’s words. “Okay, you know what? If you’re sure she won’t attack tonight, then we can take a break. We’ll go to the apartment and then drop you and Henry off at the mansion. Okay?” Regina nods.

  
  


Snow looks between the two, “No, no not okay. We have to act now. Who knows what she’s up to? Regina, she came here looking for you, so she’s your responsibility.” Regina looks at Snow incredulously, “There must be something we can do now, tonight to stop her once and for all. We need a plan.” 

  
  


“ I’m sorry, I’m still stuck on the fact that my mother is apparently my  _ responsibility _ —”

  
  


Emma drags a hand down her cheek, and rolls her eyes. “Snow, there’s nothing we can do this second. Look, it’s what, 4 am or something? We’ll figure something out in the afternoon, we can deal with Cora again in the afternoon.” Regina swallows again and purses her lips. Her brow relaxes for a moment. “But I think right now we could all use a good…half night of sleep, so just…forget about doing anything right now.”

  
  


“Emma, you’re the sheriff, you can’t just put things like this off.” Snow protests again, unwilling to let the subject drop.

  
  


“Look, m-snow—”

  
  


“I don’t need you to champion me, Sheriff,” Regina snarls, “I said I wasn’t going to do it tonight. And I refuse to.”

  
  


Emma turns to Regina, on the drunken defensive, “Hey, I wasn’t trying to champion you, I was just agreeing.” 

  
  


“For reasons I can’t understand-” Snow moves towards Emma, but stops and rolls her eyes when she sees the gun still in her hand, “Emma, put away the gun. Actually give it to me.”

  
  


“No, Snow.” She’s the sheriff, the gun is her responsibility, all of this is her responsibility. “I’m the sheriff. I can’t just give you my gun. Besides the fact that it’s against the rules, what if I need it?”

  
  


“ She’s right,” Regina smirks and Emma’s pretty sure she won’t be helpful, “She’s even more useless without the gun. And she was completely ineffectual to begin with.” Clearly Emma’s skills of deduction are still on point, because she  _ knew _ Regina would say something like that.

  
  


“Don’t deflect Regina,” Snow says “ You need to help us because—”

  
  


“Hey!” Emma successfully holsters her gun and holds up her hands. “I’m the sheriff, like I said, and that means this is my responsibility.” Snow opens her mouth, probably to disagree, “All of this is my responsibility, and besides Regina said she’ll help us in the morning.”

  
  


“ If you come to my house before one I won’t answer the door, I said the  _ afternoon _ —”

  
  


“And you actually think once she gets the chance to be away from us, she won’t just-” Snow’s tone is biting and Regina is glaring and Emma has to defuse the situation before Regina magic stabs Snow or something. 

  
  


“She won’t,” Emma glances at Regina, who is still locked in a staring contest with Snow, her hands are flexing, “because she knows she has to do what’s right for Henry.”

  
  


“When has she ever done what’s right for Henry?”

  
  


Regina sneers. “This from the woman who would choose Fed-Ex over daycare—”

  
  


“ That was  _ not _ our fault-”

  
  


Okay, this is getting out of hand, this is starting to  _ hurt _ . “Look, Snow, here’s the thing,” Emma has to placate them, she has to fix this because Regina looks like she’s a flick of her wrist away from killing Snow. Regina will  _ kill _ Snow. “I know Regina, and I trust Regina, and look Regina, I’m sorr-”

  
  


“You don’t know me Sheriff.” Regina’s face is closed off and she seems calm, though she still looks like she really wants to kill Snow, but then that’s probably her default state of being. “You claimed to, and you were wrong, just when I was fool enough to believe you really did.”

  
  


“And I’m sorry.” Emma’s been grudgingly building up to this apology all night, but now it just feels flat. “We can fix all of this in the morn-afternoon.”

  
  


“Emma-” Is Snow absolutely incapable of just giving in? Emma runs her hands over her face again.

  
  


“Look, Snow—”

  
  


“Actually.” Regina starts, and her face is still and calm. “There is something we can do.” She spins on her heel and marches back towards the mausoleum, motioning for them to follow.

  
  


<>

  
  


Snow stands in the middle of the tomb, arms folded, eyes narrowed as Regina rummages through an ornate box on an altar. 

  
  


“I developed this spell, with a…an acquaintance, at the height of my reign. Sheriff Swan, don’t touch anything.” Regina glares pointedly at Emma who’s poking at what looks like…newt eyes in a jar. She steps away from the shelf guiltily. “It’s a time travel spell and-”

  
  


“Whoa!” Emma stares in shock. “There’s magic time travel? Like Doc Brown and shit? Why haven’t you used this before??”

  
  


Regina furrows her brow at Emma’s reference but moves past it. “It allows for the caster to go back a short period of time. Three days at most. And by the time it was perfected, most of the things I would have changed were years past. And with the way the spell works, at some point I wouldn’t have wanted to change anything at all.”

  
  


Snow walks closer and peers at the scroll, she looks at Regina coolly “I’m not surprised you wouldn’t regret all you’ve done.”

  
  


“If you had the chance to go back, you would do everything exactly the same.” Regina looks at Snow in disdain. Snow’s hackles rise.

  
  


“No, I would not. If I could stop you, change all of this, I would.”

  
  


Regina smirks. “No you wouldn’t.” She inclines her head towards Emma, who’s fidgeting. “Your daughter is—”

  
  


“Look,” Emma has been waiting for this. “Grandma— ”

  
  


“Grandma?” Regina’s nostrils flare, “I have one child and he is ten years old. I am not old enough to be a grandmother.”

  
  


“ But you were Snow’s stepmother right?” Emma’s gonna follow this through, Regina needs to recognize that she’s  _ old. _

  
  


“Emma’s right, Regina, you married my father—” 

  
  


Regina cuts her off, “Your father married me—”

  
  


“Yes but—”

  
  


“No. Don’t you dare.” Regina snarls, “We’re not getting into this.” She turns to Emma, “I don’t think age should be something you want to quibble over. Technically you’re older than your mother.”

  
  


“Look that doesn’t…wait what.” Emma stares hard at Regina. “What the hell…”

  
  


That’s right, Mary Margaret was only 26, she had two years on Mary Margaret, which means…Emma turns to Snow, “You mean you’re actually only 26? I thought Mary Margaret was 26.”

  
  


Snow purses her lips, “Well, I was…almost 27 when I had you, and then there was the curse, so I was 26 for…a long time, because Regina-”

  
  


“Right, okay, Regina cast the curse, but what the hell, I’m older than my mother?” Emma groans.

  
  


“Yes, technically, I suppose you are older than me,” Snow steps toward Emma. “But sweetheart if I could go back and change-”

  
  


“We don’t need to do this now, do we?” Emma cuts in, unwilling to learn if her mother would want to change her. “Why can’t we just get along, forget all of this, I will forget that you’re somehow younger than I am, at least until this is done?”

  
  


“Perhaps you can get forget easily, but you have no idea the depth of history between your mother and I.” Regina says icily before pulling a scroll from the box on the altar. Snow rolls her eyes but remains silent.

  
  


“This spell requires three people, two of whom have to be powerful magic users. Before now, I haven’t had the same goals as anyone powerful enough, at least not since the creation of the spell.”

  
  


“Who created this spell with you? Was it Gold? Because him and curses—” Emma questions her sheriffly, but Regina patiently holds up a hand. 

  
  


“The other creator…isn’t important. It wasn’t the imp. And this is a spell, not a curse. There are differences. This spell is on a similar level of power as the curse that created Storybrooke, but because it’s a spell not a curse, its cost isn’t much more than a temporary drain on magical power. Curses always have malicious intent, and therefore have a high cost to the user. Spells have no particular moral intent, only the functional intent of the caster. Spells work to fulfill that intent, within the parameters of their function. The goal of this particular spell, once it’s cast, is to take the time traveler back to the time of its casting.”

  
  


Emma grimaces. “This sounds like math.”

  
  


Regina smirks, “Then it’s a good thing you won’t have to cast it. You don’t have to understand how it works, you just have to participate in it.”

  
  


“Just because you didn’t kill Archie, doesn’t mean we’re just going to trust you, Regina. We need to know exactly how it works first.” Snow’s attempt to assert her authority over the situation only causes Regina to smirk wider.

  
  


“Of course.” Regina goes to Snow, and holds out the scroll for her to take. “Since I’m sure you’re able to read archaic Fairen, why don’t you look and see exactly how it works. You are, after all, the one who insisted we solve the problem of my mother tonight.”

  
  


Snow balks and steps away from the scroll. Emma just sighs. “Come on Regina, can you just give us a quick overview?”

  
  


“Fine.” Regina takes the scroll in her palm. “The spell requires three people. One person to anchor the traveler to the present, the time traveler herself, and the third to be the target in the past, the person the time traveler is heading to. The anchor in the present needs to be a magic user because it is their essence that’s being projected to the time traveler once they’ve reached the past, and it’s their continued existence which will eventually lead the traveler back to the time of the casting. There must be another magic user, either the target in the past or the time traveler herself, because the anchor cannot cast the spell.” She pauses and looks at her audience appraisingly. “Are you following along?”

  
  


Snow nods, Emma shakes her head.

  
  


“Good. Once the traveler reaches the point in the past they aimed for, time will move forward in the past at a normal rate. The traveler can make all changes needed. There will be an object, which contains the essence of the anchor. This object will tell the traveler if the anchor is still in existence. Eventually the traveler returns to the time when the spell was cast. At this point they can choose to say the closing part of the spell, which makes the changes the traveler made overtake the original timeline. Or, if things have not gone well, the traveler does not say the spell and the original timeline stays the same.”

  
  


“What if something happens to the traveler?” Emma fidgets, way over her head.

  
  


“Then there is no one to say the closing part of the spell and the original timeline, with the traveler safe and sound, stays the same.” Regina sighs, “Is there anything else?” 

  
  


Snow opens her mouth, suspicious, “Yes. What happens in the present while the time spell is going on?”

  
  


“The time traveler disappears from the present until they slot back into the time when the spell was cast. The present time…it operates similarly to how Storybrooke operated under the curse. There will be a repeat affecting only the people within the town’s border. In our case, it should be three days. And…the people in town will be affected as the past changes. There may be a bit of temporary memory loss as the memories are being replaced. “

  
  


“Wait, memory loss?” Emma begins to shake her head violently. “I don’t wanna forget Henry or my name or—”

  
  


“I will only be going back in time three days.” Regina states placatingly, “You won’t forget Henry, or your name. I’ll just go back to right when you and Snow arrived back in Storybrooke and strengthen the barriers around the town. What will likely happen is that, in the present, you’ll vividly remember me, telling you that I’ve traveled back in time. In the present, you’ll likely feel compelled to say that you remember me, telling you that I’m from the future. Then there will be a disconnect between your changing memories, and your memories of the original timeline. This will continue until I slot myself back into the time when the spell was cast. My mother and Hook will be kept out, and because there’s no magic in the outside world, my mother won’t have her powers, and will be harmless. Whoever she killed will die of natural causes. And when I cast the closing spell, we’ll lose all memory of her presence here. No one in town will remember anything she caused. I won’t have to remember her…no one will remember.”

  
  


Emma nods, and everything will work out, it’ll all be fine, no one will have to remember any of this, and they can all go back to how things were…

  
  


“Wait,” says Snow, ever the voice of dissent. “You? You’re not going back. I have to go back.”

  
  


Regina sneers, “You? You’re incompetent.”

  
  


“Regina, you can’t go back, because no one will believe anything you have to say when you get there.” Snow says this so solemnly, as though it pains her. 

  
  


“I’d rather send the sheriff back.” Regina bites out, barely managing not to snarl.

  
  


“Emma can’t be trusted to time travel right now. She’s drunk.”

  
  


Regina stares at Emma, “You’re what?”

  
  


Emma looks down at the floor, then decides to own up to her lacking sobriety, “I’m much more soberer than I was. Not that drunk.”

  
  


Much more soberer.

  
  


“For the love of—”

  
  


“ Look, I can’t go back, and Snow’s right, you probably shouldn’t go back. So Snow will go back, you’ll be her target thingy, and if anything goes wrong, well, you knew about the time spell and how it worked three days ago, right? You can just tell her what she should do.” Emma would really rather not have everyone in this stupid tomb chew her out for how drunk she was earlier, especially because she really  _ is  _ much more soberer now. 

  
  


Regina grimaces, and flexes her hand around the scroll. “I suppose if anything goes wrong, I’ll know how to fix it.” She sighs, and Emma can hear the exhaustion in her voice. “We’ll need to prepare.”

  
  


<>

  
  


Emma’s in the backseat of the bug, on the way to the middle of Main street. When she’d asked why they couldn’t just perform the spell in the middle of the graveyard, or even down in the mausoleum, Regina, clearly still pissed about having to send Snow back in time, had only said, “It’s a change in time, not a change in place. If you had even the slightest capacity for learning any information above a third grade level, you’d know. We need to go where Snow would have been three days ago for this to work properly.” They had decided on main street, as they had almost certainly walked down it after arriving back in town. 

  
  


Snow drives, clutching a locket in her fist against the steering wheel. After they had settled the issue of who would travel back in time, Regina had set about creating the object to connect to the anchor. Snow had watched closely, and with some exasperation, as Regina yanked out a hank of an unsuspecting Emma’s hair, placed it in a locket, then whispered words in some archaic language over it. She had handed it to Snow who had almost dropped it immediately. The locket was warm in her hand and throbbed like a heartbeat. “It will beat along with the sheriff’s.” Regina had said. “If you change anything in anyway that harms her, the locket will reflect that on your end, and she’ll experience your mistake here in the present. So don’t make any mistakes.”

  
  


Regina sits in the passenger seat, scroll in her hand, going over the words in her head. She’ll cast this spell, and within three days she won’t have to remember Emma’s lack of faith, or her mother’s lies. Everything will be fine, everything will be okay.

  
  


They reach main street and park right outside the diner. The streetlights are still on, though it’s nearing five am, and Storybrooke will be waking soon. The concrete and asphalt are tinged yellow in the dim light. Emma makes a note to call a town meeting and explain the situation as soon as possible. Or maybe she shouldn’t? If all goes well, no one will even remember a spell was cast…probably. Emma still doesn’t really understand. All three women exit the car. Regina points Emma to the sidewalk in front of Granny’s. She walks to the other side of the street, and gestures for Snow to stand in the middle of the street between them. 

  
  


“Because you do not speak Archaic Fairen, you won’t be able to say your temporal destination when the spell is being cast. You’ll have to think very hard on where you want to go. It’s completely possible, I’ve cast this spell wordless more than once.” Regina unfurls the scroll and sighs. She looks Snow dead in the eye. “Do not mess this up.”

  
  


Snow smiles weakly, nervously. “We’re trusting you with this spell Regina, I think you can trust me.”

  
  


Regina just looks at her, and Snow can see the exhaustion in her slumping shoulders, none of them have had much sleep at all tonight. Regina’s eyes harden and her mouth becomes a thin line. “No. Never again.” She inclines her head to Emma across the street, who looks somewhat dazed. “Sheriff, just stay there. That’s all you have to do.” 

  
  


Regina looks down at the scroll, and then begins to speak in tones both guttural and melodic. Emma feels herself grow heavy, and Snow, who has closed her eyes and begun to think very hard on where she needs to go, feels her body tug her in Regina’s direction. A thought occurs to her and her eyes abruptly open. She stares at Regina.

  
  


Never Again?

  
  


Neither Emma nor Regina notice the emerging look of horror on Snow’s face as she disappears in a flash of bright light. 

  
  


The street between Emma and Regina is empty. Regina sighs and rolls up the scroll. Emma looks around blearily. She idly wonders if the trees had seemed so green and so many before Snow left. Wasn't that spruce a fire hydrant?

 

 


	2. Detour

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW for heart problems, triggers, murder, implied emotional abuse

Snow felt as though there was a weight pushing on her shoulders, making her shorter than she had been, only minutes before. Her clothing, a child’s dress covered with white ornate lace, should have felt too small, too tight. She ran her hands over her face, and stiffened upon finding baby fat where her cheeks had been smooth. She gasped, and the sound was high, higher than it had been in years.

  
  


She had messed up, somehow. Regina had said she’d never be trusted again. So she had not been able to stop herself from thinking of the first and last time Regina had trusted her, in the dark in the middle of main street in Storybrooke, standing between her daughter and the woman who should have loved her like one, she had thought of that moment.

  
  


And now, with Emma’s heartbeat throbbing in her fist, she stood in her childhood room in one of her father’s castles in Galabond, in the body of her twelve year old self, twenty-six years old.

  
  


<>

  
  


“Do you think it worked?” Emma asks, kicking the dirt road.

  
  


Regina sighs and shoves the scroll into her pocket. “We should know soon. Any moment now, we’ll remember Snow telling us that she’s arrived from the future.”

  
  


They stand on opposite sides of the road for a few seconds before Regina sighs again, stifling a yawn, and moves across the street towards Emma. There’s a tree in her path, in the middle of the road, but she walks around it. Her heel sticks in the dirt for a second, and she furrows her brow in confusion before shrugging it off.

  
  


“Well, she’s taking her sweet time.” Emma mumbles, irritated. “You…you don’t think something went wrong, do you?”

  
  


Regina shakes her head with conviction, “No. I performed the spell perfectly. There’s no reason why it would have failed. And nothing seems out of place here.”

  
  


Emma hums quietly, and absently leans against the spruce tree on the sidewalk. The candles in the lampposts flicker faintly.

  
  


<>

  
  


Snow ran from her room. Emma had said if something went wrong, and something had gone so very wrong, she would only have to find Regina, and Regina would be able to fix it. Regina could fix everything.

  
  


She slammed into someone.

  
  


<>

  
  


“She never watched where she was going.” Regina mutters.

  
  


“What?” Emma looks at Regina absently.

  
  


Regina just shakes her head.

  
  


<>

  
  


“Snow!” It was Regina, Regina would fix this, fix everything. But…

  
  


Snow looked at the woman, the _girl_ in front of her, and realized she would find no magical help of any sort from her. This girl was Regina, but she was younger, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she gazed at Snow fondly.

  
  


“Where are you going in such a hurry?” Regina placed her hands lightly on Snow’s shoulders. Snow stiffened, Regina hadn’t touched her affectionately in so long. Regina’s eyes widened and she leaned forward, her brow creased with worry. She whispered. “You remember what we talked about? You cannot tell anyone. You promised.”

  
  


Snow nodded weakly and moved herself from Regina’s reach. “Of course, Regina. You can trust me.” Her voice was so high, so squeaky; if she couldn’t find a way to fix this it would be years before it got back to normal. “I was just going to the kitchens.” Snow smiled and then turned on her heel and ran. If she was to stay here in the past, the least she could do was to fix what she had done wrong.

  
  


<>

  
  


“I asked her twice. And she promised me twice. That little—”

  
  


“Jesus, Regina!” Emma stares at her. “What are you saying? You sound possessed.”

  
  


Regina purses her lips, and shakes her head again. She says softly, “I…I don’t know.”

  
  


<>

  
  


Snow remembered, remembered vividly in fact, the exact room where she had told Cora about Regina’s plan to run away with Daniel. So she entered and she waited in the stone hall, across the settee, running her fingers over a flower, just as she remembered doing decades before. Within minutes Cora entered, as though she had been searching for her. Snow remembered it all, Cora’s sweet words, how quickly she had agreed to tell Regina’s secret once Cora had sympathized with her about her mother. Her back to Cora, Snow sneered at the memory, and cursed her naivete.

  
  


She clutched the throbbing locket in her fist.

  
  


She could feel Cora’s presence at her back, heard the soft intake of breath as Cora began, “Careful, sweetheart-”

  
  


“I won’t tell you anything because I don’t know anything.” She would not turn around, she wouldn’t. Snow moved quickly towards the door, she had to stay out of Cora’s reach, she couldn’t let her get anywhere near her heart. She would find her father, and stay by his side. Everything would be fine.

  
  


Just as she crossed the threshold, she felt the locket grow cold and still.

  
  


<>

  
  


In the bug, driving towards the apartment Emma gasps for breath. “Pull over.” She whispers to Regina and begins panting, clutching at her heart. “I think, I think my heart’s stopped.”

  
  


<>

  
  


Snow spun around, the locket had gone cold, if the locket had gone cold, that meant Emma’s heart had gone cold and still and silent, and Emma, Emma. She’d commit all of her sins a second time if it meant Emma’s heart kept beating.

  
  


<>

  
  


  
  


Emma gasps and pants, even as her heart starts up again.

  
  


“Emma! That witless— ” Regina touches her shoulder, panic on her face. “Are you okay? What did she do?”

  
  


“I’m fine, I’m fine.” She’s not but she will be probably, her heart is settled back in it’s regular rhythm, like it never decided to stop working at all. “Snow? I don’t know what she did.”

  
  


Regina freezes. “What do you mean you don’t know?” she asks quietly

  
  


“I mean, I don’t know.” Emma’s annoyed, her heart just did…whatever it just did, and Regina wants to talk about Snow. “Why are you freaking out? Didn’t you say something about memory loss? I probably just don’t remember what she did.”

  
  


“Yes.” Regina shakes her head. “But you should also know how Snow messed up in such a way that your heart stopped. Did she push you into oncoming traffic? Accidentally shove your head under water? Stab you?”

  
  


Emma looks at Regina incredulously. “What? No! No, my memories from that night are the same, aren’t yours?”

  
  


Regina leans back against her seat and stares out the windshield. “Yes.”

  
  


“How is that? I mean, the spell worked: Snow’s gone.” Emma blows air from her mouth in a sharp, exasperated gust.

  
  


“It should have worked. I don’t know how your mother could have screwed it up.” Regina flexes her fist.

  
  


Emma glances out her window. The trees…there are a lot of trees and the road is looking less asphalt and more dirt. Emma stills.

  
  


“Regina,” she says quietly. “Before my heart stopped, you said something. Something about Snow.”

  
  


Regina glances at Emma out of the corner of her eye. “Yes?”

  
  


“What did you say?”

  
  


“I said I asked her twice if she could keep her promise. And she told me she could.”

  
  


Emma feels the hair on the back of her neck rise. Her breath grows shallower. “And why did you say that?”

  
  


Regina’s eyes widen in horror. “Because that’s what happened.”

  
  


“Regina…”

  
  


“No.”

  
  


“Regina, when did that happen?”

  
  


She closes her eyes tight, and shakes her head. “I asked her right before my mother killed Daniel.”

  
  


“When was that?”

  
  


“Including the curse, that was more than 40 years ago, in Galabond.”

  
  


There are definitely more trees, and they’re much greener, and the street is definitely definitely more dirt than asphalt and Emma just stares.

  
  


Regina whispers, “ _Fuck_.”

<>

  
  


The next day Snow found herself compelled to walk into Regina’s dress fitting, as she had done decades before. This time though, she saw the flatness in Regina’s eyes, saw the blank smile. She felt Emma’s heart beat in the locket against her chest. She would commit all of her sins again, but…she could not bring herself to tell Regina, could not bring herself to fall under Regina’s wrath again, for something that wasn’t entirely her fault, it had never really been her fault, she was a child then, and now she had a child to think of. And maybe, maybe Regina didn’t have to know.

  
  


So she smiled at Regina, who smiled at her in return, it was empty, how had she not seen before how empty that smile was, how could she have been so naive as not to realize the hatred that would grow in that empty smile. She said, “You are most certainly the fairest of them all.”

  
  


<>

The next day Emma finds herself minutes away from stepping onto the stage and announcing their colossal fuck up. She turns to Regina.

  
  


“Look, I technically don’t have an excuse, except I kind of do. I was drunk, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. What’s your excuse?”

  
  


Regina smirks, amused, because this is technically not her fault. “It was a good idea, sheriff. It would have worked if your mother wasn’t wholly incompetent.”

  
  


“Come on Regina, it was hasty and too…too big! Why the hell did you even suggest it?”

  
  


Regina’s smile drops. She stares off past Emma.

  
  


<>

  
  


And Regina answered, “Thank you, dear.”

  
  


Obliged by her memory, Snow beamed and said, “I hope for my wedding day I will be as beautiful.”

  
  


Regina did not turn, but answered, “I’m sure you will be.” And the words were as empty as her tone, and Snow did not understand how she hadn’t _realized_. But now…

  
  


“You and Daniel will be so happy together.” And it was just a little change, just the slightest change.

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina begins to speak, quietly, so quietly, as though she’s letting Emma in on a secret the rest of Storybrooke cannot know. “Imagine you're on the road to finally having everything together in your life, your son doesn't think you're a murderer anymore, some people seem willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and everything could possibly work out.

  
  


“And then it's all ripped away and you don't know who did it or why, all you know is suddenly you're not back at square one, suddenly you're worlds away, treated like you were in the past you left behind, watching a little boy who will probably never call himself your son again, you have to watch this child cry because he believes you've killed someone he loves.

  
  


“Imagine then, that he appears to you and tells you that of course he's your son, of course he loves you, and that he believed in you all along.

  
  


“Imagine that everything he's said is all a lie, and it's proven to be one almost immediately, when he turns out to be your mother in disguise. And she's the cause of everything that went wrong.

  
  


“Imagine that you're angry; you don't want to trust her, but she's saying everything will be okay, saying the kindest words you've heard in so long, and she promises to fix everything, and like an absolute fool, you believe her.

  
  


“Imagine that's immediately proven to be a lie, when she leaves as soon as it's clear that she cannot sway you to her side, and when she said she would listen and do as you asked, she meant that she would bide her time until she could bend you to her will.”

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina smiled, though it looked like the corners of her mouth pained her. “No, dear. I’m not marrying Daniel. I’m going to marry your father.”

  
  


Snow paused, and wondered if she could really do it, really make Regina believe that she was not to blame. But then she thought, I could have all the love I should have, and no hatred to plague me, and the locket still was beating.

  
  


“I thought you were to marry Daniel. Weren’t you in love?”

  
  


“No. It…was not real love, not…true.” Regina would not look at her, only continued to stare ahead as the seamstresses worked on her dress.

  
  


“You are to be my new mother?”

  
  


Regina nodded stiffly.

  
  


<>

  
  


“Imagine you have the chance to forget all of those things have happened, imagine you have the chance to fix it all.” Regina blinks once and shakes her head, but then sighs primly. “It was rash, but I was having a bad night. It would have worked, if your mother had proved at all trustworthy.”

  
  


Emma grimaces, but nods. “Yeah, sorry.”

  
  


Regina smirks, and opens her mouth, but then reels back in shock. She frowns.

  
  


<>

  
  


Snow hugged Regina, felt her stiff and unyielding in her arms and thought, without me to hate, you’ll learn to love your life here, while it lasts. She turned, “That’s wonderful! I must go and…taste the cake then!” She could not stay there, she felt the truth attempt to spill from her lips and damn her to years of being hated. She left the room with Emma’s heart beating strongly against her chest.

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina whispers, “My mother told me it was my fault. That he had died, only because he loved me. That she had tried to teach me, but I wouldn’t listen and Daniel died because of it That I should never be loved. ” She looks down and swallows heavily. Her voice is strained when she says, “I have to go.”

  
  


She crosses her arms, turns on her heel and exits the building quickly. “Regina, wait!” Emma calls after her, but is ignored.

  
  


Emma is left all alone to explain to the town exactly how they will likely spend the next forty some years of their lives if this whole thing can’t be fixed.

  
  


<>

  
  


The town is angry, to put it lightly.

  
  


“The queen and you were taken in by the evil queen, and now we’re all cursed again?” Grum-Leroy yells.

  
  


And it’s not totally Emma’s fault, but Snow is trapped forty years in the past, and Regina ditched her so…

  
  


“Look, it’s not entirely Regina’s fault. It’s also mine and Snow’s. She suggested it after we insisted she help us capture Cora. And it would have worked. But Snow made a small mistake, tiniest mistake. And it’s really only a small mistake and we’ll get it fixed, and it’s nothing to burn Regina at the stake for.”

  
  


“But Regina cast the curse!” These people…

  
  


“So here’s the thing: it’s not Regina’s fault, so there will be no forming of mobs to attack her, since I’m pretty sure she’s the only one who knows how to fix this.” In the crowd, Henry frowns. “ Also, it’s a spell, not a curse. So we’re all…spelled, not cursed. And we’ll be working to fix this. And it’s not exactly like the dark curse…because you all know you’ve been curs-spelled. And you’ve got your memories and no one is really separated.” She won’t look at David though she knows he’s sitting next to Henry in the front row. “And we’ll fix all of this as soon as we can. For now…in the meantime, no one will really age, and we’re trapped, but we were trapped before anyway, and it’ll all work out.

  
  


“Oh! And Cora Mills, Regina’s homicidal mother is on the loose somewhere in town. So…be on the lookout for her, and take extra precautions, because she’s also a shape-shifter. I would suggest some kind of secret password question thing if you haven’t seen someone for…more than a few minutes, and also if anyone is acting strange.” The townspeople all look at each other suspiciously, this is gonna be such a mess, she doesn’t need some asshole killing someone. “And don’t kill or harm anyone if you suspect them! Just get away from them, and call the station; we’ll have deputies on standby.” She’s gonna have to get David and Ruby to stay there, and probably hire another temporary person just for the false alarms.

  
  


“Also, there might be a bit of minor minor memory loss, just the smallest bit, maybe nothing at all really.” She has to just quickly gloss over the memory loss, because she _still_ doesn’t entirely understand what’s gonna be happening with that whole thing, maybe if Regina had explained the whole thing better, she would know. Also maybe if she hadn’t been drunk.

  
  


“And there was a breach of the town line yesterday night, or this morning I guess, and someone from the outside came in.” The town is basically shouting, and she knows they have every right to be pissed, but how the hell are they going to get this information if they won’t _shut up._ And why the hell do they have to be so loud? She lucked out and avoided the hangover, but her head is still a bit tender.

  
  


“Hey, HEY! Whoever it was is dead now, despite intervention from Dr. Whale.” Who is sitting somewhere in the back wearing sunglasses and nursing what looks like a take-away cup of coffee. He is very clearly hungover. She really has no right to judge, but he was supposed to be performing complicated surgery; she was just supposed to protect the town. At least no one _died_ because she was drunk. At least not yet.

  
  


“And the town line has been reinforced by the time spell.” Probably, she’s not sure, but at this point, lying may be best. “So no one else will be coming through anytime soon.” She makes eye contact with Henry and inclines her head to the nearest exit. He stands quickly and heads toward the side door.

  
  


“Also, if anyone knows anything about time spells, like how they’re cast, how they can get messed up or how they could possibly be broken, please get in contact with the sheriff station; your help would be greatly appreciated.” That’s probably everything.

  
  


She should take questions now, but if they’re going to fix this, she has to find Regina. And Cora, and possibly Hook. So nothing has changed from last night except that they’ve probably fucked up the time stream or something. And Snow is gone.

  
  


“We’ll have another town meeting once we know more. Thank you.”

  
  


She walks quickly from the stage, ignoring the rising shouts as what she’s said sinks in. She’s halfway across the parking lot when a small body slams into hers, and thank god it’s Henry.

  
  


“Emma!” He stares up at her wide-eyed. “Is it true? Are we cursed or spelled or whatever? Is it my mom’s fault?”

  
  


He definitely needs to know that it’s not Regina’s fault, and also what’s going on, but right now…She glances back and sees town hall beginning to empty, and David’s coming.

  
  


“Just get in the car, kid. We have to go find your mom, I’ll explain more later.”

  
  


They peel off just as David gets to where they were parked; she ignores his shouts as they weave sharply between the trees growing in the roads. She’s gonna have to get the fire department or the dwarves to take care of those. Is chopping down trees more like fighting fires or mining for magic fairy diamonds? God if Ruby wasn’t the wolf in her story, maybe there’d be an axeman to help her out.

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina sits in the living room. She should be searching for books pertaining specifically to time and memory, but her memories are changing and right now she does not want to leave the couch. She hears the knock on her front door, but ignores it. Her eyes are teary, and her nose is running, and she looks undignified, and she’s honestly questioning all of her life choices. She can’t remember when she began to hate Snow, perhaps that reason has changed. She remembers the moment in time when her mother told her that Daniel’s death was only because he loved her. And then there’s a disjoint, and she remembers rage and hating Snow, even when she didn’t want to. But now she cannot remember why.

  
  


She can’t let anyone see her the way she is. So she ignores the knocking.

  
  


“Regina! Regina, come on, I need your help to fix all of this!” She won’t answer, she can’t answer, just because Emma’s not drunk anymore, doesn’t mean Regina’s not still…upset.

  
  


“Look, Regina, open up! I need to know exactly what I should expect to happen!”

  
  


“Maybe she’s not home?” It’s Henry; she should answer the door for her son, but she can’t let him see her like this either. She can’t let anyone see her cry like this.

  
  


“I don’t know kid, maybe you’re right.” She hears Emma’s loud and incredibly unrefined groan. “I think we should at least try to get inside.” She will not be breaking into her house; the door locks for a _reason._

  
  


She waves her hand quickly to bring up a shield around the house. She hears Emma curse, “Ow! What the fuck, Regina! Sorry, kid, pretend you didn’t hear that.” The nerve, cursing around her son, teaching him to be just as absolutely vulgar as—

  
  


“Hear what?” And teaching him to _lie_.

  
  


“Thanks. At least this means she’s probably home and can hear us. Cover your ears kid.” Regina hears a loud intake of breath, and Emma is not going to-

  
  


“Regina! I know you can hear us!” And of course, Emma is shouting. “Look, we can’t stick around until you decide to talk to us! Some of us have a responsibility to fix this mess!” She hears Emma’s sigh, “I’ll be back around after I take care of some stuff!” She stops her infernal shrieking. “Come on Henry, I’ll come back to check on her later.”

  
  


Emma can try as hard as she likes, but she will not be opening the door until she can find some way to stop crying.

  
  


 

 

 


	3. Like your mother

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW for: mentions of Stat Rape, Alcohol Usage, Triggers, Emotional Manipulation, Restraint, Forced Kiss, Marital Rape, Vomit, Child abuse, murder

Regina, newly engaged to King Leopold, sat in her quarters in his castle, curled up by the window. In the distance she saw the boundaries of King Leopold’s capital, and farther still, she knew, was the border of the Infinite Forest. She recalled the stories of the scullery maids in her childhood home after Ataecina. The women swore that if one were desperate enough to flee a place, and entered the forest off a trade route or fairy path, the guardians would make it so they reached a land far from where they had left. The maids had whispered that entering the forest at the Galabond border could take someone as far as Panthea, without even stepping foot in the vast kingdom of Janus, which lay between the two. Regina flexed her fist, and stared out across the land. If she could leave, take Rocinante and reach the Infinite Forest, off the paths, her mother couldn’t catch her, and the king could search for years and never find her.

  
  


But there was nowhere she could go. She thought, _Would I dare to force myself on a land, have them die at the hands of my mother, of the king, of those who would conquer me?_ She bit her lip and stifled her tears. _There is no love in the world I could see sacrificed. None should die like Daniel._ She threw all thoughts of fleeing from her head, and resigned herself to surrendering before the fight, before anyone else died for loving her.

  
  


<>

  
  


All the roads are dirt. Emma has the dwarves attempt to put down asphalt, but it just turns to dirt as soon as it hits the ground. They have managed to chop down some of the trees, though the tiniest bits of stump still stick up, they’re like opposite potholes. Storybrooke is just gonna have to deal, they’re lucky their car engines haven’t turned to miniature horses. The townsfolk don’t realize anything is weird about the roads, of all the complaints she’s dealt with no one comments on all the changes to the makeup of the town. If she didn’t know for a fact that the streets in most towns aren’t peppered with tree stumps, she might not have noticed herself. No one else seems to, they all seem to have taken it all in stride,like they’ve always been there.

  
  


Emma spends the whole day with Henry, doing damage control. Or rather, what appears to be damage control, but what is actually mostly outright lying. She has no idea what’s going on, and the only person who does is still locked up in the mansion behind an electric stinging shield. So she tells people, “We can fix this.” And, “It’ll all work out.” Even though she doesn’t know if it’s true, is beginning to doubt it’s true, she hasn’t made any headway in figuring out exactly what is going to happen.

  
  


Ruby, at the very least, has much more to do besides babysit Henry. Emma’s avoiding the sheriff station until she can figure out exactly what she’s going to tell David, but she still has to do her sheriff duties, at least while she still has her job. Even if she does fix this, she’s going to face opposition next sheriff’s election, and if she doesn’t manage, then, well, it probably won’t matter anyway. She _doesn’t know_. So Ruby is on desk duty and spends the day sending Emma and David on increasingly ridiculous possible Cora sightings, none of which turn out to actually be Cora.

  
  


At Ashley Boyd and Sean Herman’s tiny apartment, Emma has to calm a frazzled and angry Ashley over Alexandra’s wailing. “Sean doesn’t remember what day our anniversary is. Either he’s that witch, or he’s sleeping at the bed and breakfast.” Henry watches from the car as Emma leads a guilty looking Sean from the building.

  
  


“I just asked her if she meant our anniversary in the enchanted forest, our anniversary under the dark curse, or our anniversary _now,_ ” he grumbles.

  
  


Emma groans internally, but tries to keep up a professional facade. “Look, why don’t you head down to Granny’s? I’m sure she’ll help you get in contact with Ruby, and then Ruby can talk to Ashley for you? Okay?” Sean nods and heads off quickly down the street, not noticing Emma rolling her eyes or Henry giggling in the car.

  
  


<>

  
  


Later that day, Emma pulls up to a blue house in the west side of town, and watches a little boy with brown skin and curly black hair banging on the front door. The door opens a crack and a little girl pokes her head out. “Let me back in!” The boy yells.

  
  


“Didn’t see you for a minute. You haveta know the secret password.”

  
  


“Mira, let me in!”

  
  


“No. First tell me who stuck their fingers in the cake.”

  
  


The little boy looks down. “Me.”

  
  


The girl cups her hand around her ear. “Louder, Julio, can’t hear you!”

  
  


“Me!” the little boy shrieks.

  
  


The girl opens the door a crack wider, still blocking her brother from entering, and yells into the house. “Mami, hear that? Julio admitted it!”

  
  


Emma stares at the kids arguing on the porch. She should intervene, probably, but it looks like no one is Cora in this situation, so she’ll just stick around until they make it back in the house. She turns to Henry, only to find him staring hard at the little boy. “Do you know him?” she asks.

  
  


Henry blinks and looks at her, dazed. “Yeah. Julio Soto.” He goes back to staring at the arguing kids. “He was my best friend in the second grade. But then I went to the third grade…and he stayed little. I guess now we’ll never catch up.” He looks down at his lap. Emma hasn’t really talked to him about the time spell yet, and he’s been waiting really patiently, and now would be a great time to tell him that, from what she can remember, he won’t be aging for a while either. But she’s not ready to admit her mistake, to him or even to herself, she’s still hoping for a quick fix once she talks to Regina.

  
  


“Well, kid, I mean, once people get older, differences in age get smaller.” Henry looks at her in confusion.

  
  


“What do you mean?”

  
  


She sighs. “I mean, that you’re what, three years older than him?” Henry nods. “So the difference between ten and seven seems big now. But the difference between 22 and 25 is much smaller. So one day, he’ll catch up.”

  
  


“Yeah, but that’s so far away.” Emma stays quiet and goes back to watching the siblings. She should know it’s no good telling little kids that one day when they’re older, everything will be okay, it’s not true, everything hasn’t really worked out that well for her, even with the addition of magic, _especially_ with the addition of magic. It’s only recently she thought she was even _getting_ to okay, and right now she feels like she’s a good…forty years away from it.

  
  


Mira finally opens the door wide enough for her brother to get through, and he bolts into the house. “Mami!” he screams. “Casimira almost got me kidnapped!”

  
  


“Not true! Julio’s a liar!” The door slams behind them.

  
  


“I think,” Emma starts the bug up again, “he’s not Cora.”

  
  


“You’re probably right,” Henry says.

  
  


<>

  
  


Emma’s driving Henry back to the apartment, planning to make dinner and put him to bed, when she sees Leroy walking down the street with a long stick…lighter. There’s some kind of lighter at the end of the stick; he’s using it to light the candle wicks in the street lamps.

  
  


“Emma, we have electricity in Storybrooke,” Henry says, bewildered.

  
  


“Leroy!” She pulls the car to a stop beside him. “What are you doing? Why are you lighting the…street lamps?”

  
  


He rolls his eyes at her. “I’m the Janitor. It’s my job,” he says gruffly.

  
  


<>

  
  


Early into the first night, Regina can’t help but attempt to sleep. She hasn’t slept in two days, so much has changed but it’s only been two days, and she gets tired like anyone would. But there were…are seven years between Daniel’s death and the king’s, seven years when night brought fear into her quarters. Her memories are changing, and while she can just barely handle them in the waking hours, she cannot fathom having to dream them.

  
  


So she paces, willing herself to stay awake and cursing Snow White for screwing up so colossally. She can no longer recall why she spent years chasing the girl; that part of her memory has been excised. But she can find rage, can find the anger in being made to relive the years of her life when her knees stuck to the marble floors of the castles Leopold owned, the years when he owned her.

  
  


Caught up in her rage, she jolts when the phone rings.

  
  


<>

  
  


“Emma, I have to call my mom.” Henry’s already got his cell phone to his ear, and if he can’t see Regina in person, he might as well try to call her.

  
  


“Mom?” Henry grins and Emma smiles back at him, because at least Regina’s answering his calls. “Mom, are you okay? What’s going on?” And now, they can get some answers. Emma watches Henry’s frown, and her hope for an explanation vanishes. “Everything’s not okay. Why won’t you let us see you? Mom, I…whoa!” Henry starts to glow purple.

  
  


“Henry?” Emma tentatively places a hand on his shoulder but then relaxes when she’s not shocked. She freezes and stares at Henry in horror, if she’s not being shocked, that could mean whatever’s happening to Henry is the work of Cora. But…she takes a deep, steadying breath, and reminds herself not to just jump to conclusions, Henry’s still fine.

  
  


“Did Regina do this?” she asks, and he nods and waves his glowing hand in front of his face. Emma’s racing heart slows down to its normal rate.

  
  


Henry protests in response to what Regina is saying. “What do you mean ‘Now I can go to school’? Mom—”

  
  


Emma interrupts, because even though she trusts Regina not to purposely hurt Henry, she doesn’t necessarily trust Regina not to accidentally hurt Henry. She’s never going to look at an apple filled pastry for the rest of her life. “Is this a protection spell like the one on the mansion?” Henry nods. “Why isn’t it shocking me?”

  
  


He pauses then grins. “Mom says the one on the house is only meant to keep you out.” Emma rolls her eyes. It would be just like Regina to keep _her_ out, nevermind the angry townspeople or her bloodthirsty mother.

  
  


“Mom, I’m _sorry._ ” Somehow Henry’s apology sounds much more genuine than Emma’s did. “I know, but…Okay. I’ll still be safe. Okay. You too…She says,” Henry holds out the phone to Emma. “She wants to talk to you.” Emma grabs the phone. Finally she can get some answers.

  
  


“Regina—”

  
  


“Sheriff Swan, the spell placed on Henry will protect him from my mother in any form, as well as anyone else that could harm him. He should stop glowing in a few moments.” Henry loses his purple aura as he’s waving his hands around, watching the glowing purple trail. He pouts. “I’ve also placed a spell on the apartment.” Regina’s voice is strained, like it was yesterday night, and Emma realizes that just because she’s no longer drunk, doesn’t mean Regina has completely recovered from the events of the graveyard. Emma hears a sharp intake of breath on Regina’s end.

  
  


“Okay, look—” Regina hangs up, leaving Emma with a dial tone. “Godda—” She glances at Henry who’s looking at her in shock. She sighs. At the very least, she knows Regina isn’t completely checked out. Henry’s safe, for now, and that’s something. But it’s been a whole day and she still has no clear idea what’s going on or how she should expect _any_ of this to work, and Regina still won’t really talk to her, and as soon as she’s put Henry to bed she’s gonna ‘fix’ the microwave _and_ the toaster—

  
  


“You guys used magic.” Emma pulls herself out of her appliance destruction fantasy. This talk with Henry has been coming all day, and he’s been pretty patient about the whole thing, so she has to have this conversation, whether or not she’s ready for it, because he clearly is.

  
  


“Yeah, kid, we did.” He sits himself on one of the barstools by the island, and apparently she’s supposed to sit with him. Probably. She’s still a bit shaky on the whole parenting thing, if Regina—

  
  


“Why?” Henry cocks his head.

  
  


“Look, kid, here’s the thing…we were really desperate to get rid of Regina’s mom.” Already she’s feeling like she doesn’t have anything like a real excuse for any of this, and she’s _not_ going to tell Henry she was drunk.

  
  


“But you didn’t get rid of her. She’s still around.” Henry’s tone isn’t as accusatory as it would have been with Regina, and Emma’s not sure why, but it can’t be good. Either he’s holding back because he’s scared she’ll leave him, or he just doesn’t hold her to the same standard as he does Regina. She doesn’t want to deal with either of those possibilities, she can do the parenting basics, but she is in no way ready to deal with any of Henry’s actual issues. So she’ll deal with the issue at hand now, and when Regina decides to see them again, she’ll talk to Regina about it.

  
  


“Yeah, the spell we used didn’t work out so well. Regina says it would have worked out fine, but Snow messed up while we were casting it. So now Snow’s stuck a…very long time in the past, until we can figure out how to fix this.” She has to make it clear to Henry that this isn’t Regina’s fault, because it’s honestly much more hers than Regina’s. Sort of. “I mean, kid, Regina suggested it, but she didn’t even wanna do it.”

  
  


Henry stares at her in confusion. “She didn’t want to do it? Then why did she?”

  
  


Emma blinks at him. She can’t say that the only reason Regina even suggested the spell was because Emma and Snow told her that Henry would never forgive her if she didn’t help them. That’s effectively what they did and…She could lie to him. She could tell him she doesn’t know why Regina agreed to it. But then he’ll just think Regina really did plan for Snow to get stuck in the past, and Emma just can’t bring herself to make him hate or fear his mom anymore. She takes a deep breath.

  
  


“We told her that you’d be angry at her if she joined Cora. We might have said that you’d never forgive her if she didn’t help us stop her mother.”

  
  


Henry opens his mouth, but then closes it quickly again.. “Emma…why…you can’t do that…” He screws up his face and bolts from the chair, hands flexing by his sides. “Don’t tell her stuff like that!”

  
  


Emma sighs and puts runs a hand through her hair. “Look, kid, here’s the thing, we needed her help. And the only way—”

  
  


“Don’t, don’t tell her I won’t forgive her or, or that I’ll be angry! I don’t want! I’m not—!” He humphs loudly and takes a deep breath, attempting to calm himself. Emma stands and reaches out to put her hands on his shoulders, but he backs out of her reach. He explodes. “Emma, I don’t want my mom to be scared of me!” Henry begins to cry, taking big breaths, and oh god he’s gonna start hyperventilating, and Emma can’t remember where they keep the brown paper bags.

  
  


“Henry!” She awkwardly wraps him a hug, he’s too small and her arms feel too big, like he’ll just slip through, and she has no idea how to do any of this. “Henry, no, she’s not scared of you. She just…we needed her to help us. It was for the…the greater good.” It feels flat and empty even as she’s saying it, and she knows it won’t soothe Henry, realizes this even before he pushes himself away from her.

  
  


“But it didn’t work! And now grams is gone and my mom won’t see me and it’s my fault she thinks she has to—”

  
  


“Henry!” Emma pulls him close again, and he lets her, leans into her, mostly because he’s started bawling. “She’s not mad at you, or scared of you. Her mother’s back in town, and she’s just…going through some stuff.” She moves away from him, hands still on his shoulders, and bends down to look him directly in the face, like she’s seen Regina do. “This is our fault okay, mine and Snow’s and also Regina’s. But we definitely shouldn’t have…used you to get her to cast the spell. And I’m sorry okay?” She stares at him until he nods, hesitantly. She says. “This isn’t your fault. I’ll go check on her again tomorrow. And Henry, I promise, she’s not avoiding you. Okay?” He sniffles, but gives her a watery smile and Emma sighs in relief as she realizes he’s calming down.

  
  


She has never had to deal with Henry when he’s a hysterical little kid, the worst she’s seen him is nothing compared to how he is now. She’s beginning to remember not to curse around him, knows that lunch and dinner have to have at least one vegetable, and would protect him with her life, but she doesn’t really know how to soothe him, doesn’t really understand why he’s crying now, doesn’t know how to hug him when he’s not the one who hugs her first, and she’s beginning to think she is not at all equipped to parent him without Regina or even Snow to show her how.

  
  


At the very least though, she’s managed to get him to stop sobbing. He rubs his eyes, and she smiles softly at him. “It’s getting late, and it’s been a long day. Why don’t you go upstairs and get ready for bed?”

  
  


He nods. “You’ll go to my mom’s house tomorrow? Promise?”

  
  


“Yeah, kid. I promise.” He turns and heads up the stairs. She watches him until he’s up on the landing, and then she collapses on the bar stool, and puts her head down. She’s been telling everyone that the time spell can be broken, that everything can be fixed but she doesn’t _know_. She doesn’t know what’s going on, and if she can’t get Regina to talk to her tomorrow, she still won’t. She hasn’t had time to really sit down and process what’s going on, she’s just been letting everything build up. She won’t freak out, she won’t be upset, until she knows for sure what’s going on. But she still can’t shake the sense of foreboding, and as soon as she has the time she really needs to ‘fix’ that toaster…

  
  


<>

  
  


After she hangs up on Emma, Regina resumes her pacing, staying on her feet the rest of her night. It is in the late hours, that she begins to feel…an absence.

  
  


She remembers staying awake the night before her final dress fitting, pacing. And if she thinks of later that night, she met Rumplestiltskin for the first time. But her first moments with him are fading fast in her memory, quickly being replaced by time spent doing what she is now, she had paced throughout the night, had kept sleep at bay. She realizes with a shock that Snow has changed her past in such a way that she never calls for Rumplestiltskin.

  
  


When the first rays of morning break, she resolves firmly that she will do whatever it takes to break the time spell. She can face remembering her murders, however they might change, she can hear the screams already. But she will not face this, will not allow Snow to change her past so much that she spends forever married to the king, never learns the magic to free herself. She should not be made to face this. It feels too much like she’s getting what she deserves prematurely, as though those years with the king were punishment for sins she hadn’t yet committed.

  
  


She will not be made to remember her violation.

  
  


Closing her eyes momentarily, she sinks into the couch, just for a moment of rest. In her memories, her mother is berating her, telling her she is not good enough, that she should never be loved, as love is beneath power and will only be her undoing. If she thinks later into the day, she had pushed her mother through an enchanted mirror, and lied to the king and her father about her fate.

  
  


The latter memories are fading fast.

  
  


<>

  
  


Emma tries to wait for David to get off, because she really just wants to be done with the explaining, but it’s 11:30 by the time she realizes that he must have pulled a night shift, and she’s not _that_ eager to tell him exactly how badly she fucked up. So she goes to bed and tries to sleep, but the day’s been too long, and the bed feels harder than it ever has; she tosses and turns until she hears him come in, just past 4:30. She fakes sleep when she hears him come up the stairs; it had been too late to talk to him the night before, and now it’s way too early and she doesn’t think there’s ever a good time to tell someone that for the next forty years, they’re basically a widower.

  
  


It’s not until she’s dropped Henry off at school, because Regina said he had to go, that she finally runs into David.

  
  


He’s sitting at the island glowering at his coffee when she comes in, and she curses internally; he should be in bed, after being up all night. She swallows the piece of bear claw in her mouth. “Emma,” he says, and she knows that she has to discuss the situation with him; her grace period has run out.

  
  


“Hey, David.”

  
  


“Snow’s gone.”

  
  


She doesn’t want to tell him that she has no idea what happened, and only a vague idea of where Snow is, which doesn’t matter because she’s not where they all want her to be, which is with them. She’ll stick to the party line and hope he won’t ask any questions she can’t answer without Regina. “Uh, yeah. Time spell and all that. And as soon as I can get a chance to talk to Regina—”

  
  


David frowns, and Emma realizes she should not have brought up Regina at all. “Emma, if Regina had a hand in this then we have to consider the possibility that she trapped Snow in the past on purpose.”

  
  


Emma shoves her hands in her pockets, she doesn’t want to argue for Regina’s sake, not when Snow’s not there, and the only person left to blame is herself, and she doesn’t need David to be disappointed in her. But she also can’t just let Regina take the whole blame for this, especially not when the normally calm townsfolk turn bloodthirsty when Regina’s involved. “Look, David, Regina only cast the time spell because we asked her to.” David stands and rolls his shoulders, stretching, and Emma can see the lines of exhaustion in his face, and this is the first time she’s ever seen him look old enough to actually be her dad.

  
  


“Regina cast the curse—”

  
  


“Spell.” Just because he looks like he could be her dad, doesn’t mean she’s going to just let him be wrong about what’s actually happening, she doesn’t have to cave to him, she owes him her genetics, everything else she is is what the world made of her.

  
  


“Yeah, the spell. She cast it. So it’s her fault it went wrong, and we have to arrest—”

  
  


“Look,” She gets that he’s upset, he should be, his wife is stuck some forty years in the past for the foreseeable future, but at some point they’re all going to have to stop blaming Regina for things she just didn’t do. “Regina cast the spell, you’re right. But I went along with it. And Snow was the one who fuc—messed it up.”

  
  


“That’s what Regina says. Emma, you don’t know her like we do. If she had the chance to get rid of Snow, she would take it, and clearly she did.” Emma groans. If David is going to insist on blaming Regina for the spell, Emma might as well let him. She _has_ to soothe Henry, and he’s at least eager to believe that his mom isn’t at fault. But David’s her dad, and he should just _trust_ her.

  
  


“Even if Regina did get rid of Snow, what could she possibly gain?”

  
  


“Well, she’s working with Cora—”

  
  


Emma had forgotten that David isn’t up to date on what current alliances are. “No, she’s pretty pissed at Cora right now.”

  
  


“Henry’s not angry at her anymore.” It’s too early and Emma forgot to grab coffee at Granny’s and she’s too tired to really deal with any of this, with convincing David that the fucked up spell isn’t Regina’s fault. She should just leave, and go talk to Regina like she promised Henry she would. But David is her dad, and the only parent she currently has, what with Snow messing around with time.

  
  


“Yeah, Henry’s not so angry at her anymore, but I mean, she didn’t _get_ him. We went to her house yesterday, and she knew he was there, and she still wouldn’t come out.” She discards her bear claw on the island. “And besides, I can always tell when Regina’s lying, and she wasn’t when she said the time spell messing up wasn’t her fault. We’re just gonna have to accept that Snow was the one who fucked up.”

  
  


David’s shaking his head. “I can’t accept that. Snow’s gone…she can’t just be _gone_.” Emma just wants to finish her bear claw and drink some coffee and go get her visit with Regina over with, but David will just keep insisting, and she has to at least _try_. “She wouldn’t just…” He moves his hands in a gesture of disbelief. “screw herself over like that. Regina had to have done _something_.”

  
  


Emma sighs, realizing that even if Regina hadn’t been involved with the spell at all, David would probably still be pissed at her. He’s angry, his wife is missing and currently no one knows how to get her back, and he needs somewhere to direct that anger. And Regina is an easy target, because it could be argued that all of their situations are ultimately her fault. A voice in the back of Emma’s mind reminds her that Regina wasn’t the one who put her in a wardrobe, and that there have been times in her life where forever as an infant would have been better, times when she wished she was dead. She pushes the thoughts away, because those times were then, and this is now, and now she needs David to see that Regina isn’t their enemy because she’s the only one that can help them, except for Gold, who she’s trying to avoid. She hasn’t forgotten that favor, and she’s pretty sure he hasn’t either. So David is just going to have to accept that blaming Regina won’t solve anything. But her current reasoning isn’t working. Emma shifts her feet and approach.

  
  


“David, here’s the thing, I know Snow’s gone, but blaming Regina, when she’s the only one who might know how to fix all of this is just counterproductive. We need her to help us.”

  
  


“She should be helping us, this is _her fault_.” He gripes. Emma rolls her eyes. She could go in circles with David all day, but if she’s gonna get anything done, she needs to distract him. She abruptly changes the subject.

  
  


“What happened with Hook?” David looks up in surprise, but the sudden topic switch must have been enough to yank him out of his mental rut, because he answers quickly.

  
  


“He was still handcuffed to a bed in the hospital, last time I checked, which was an hour ago. The dwarves are watching him in shifts. We also swept the boat, but couldn’t find any sign of Cora.” At the very least, Hook’s taken care of, which is a load off her mind. She doesn’t need some half-assed pirate running around Storybrooke, the town is weird enough already without Hook’s bumbling attempts to carry out his vendetta. Though if she lets Hook off Gold, then arrests him for murder, she won’t have to make good on her deal. But that would be immoral, even if it’s also really practical…She lets go of the thought. Hook would probably only fuck it up anyway.

  
  


“What are we doing about the outsider, Greg Mendel?” She asks instead.

  
  


David frowns. “He’s dead.”

  
  


“Well, yeah.” Emma stifles the urge to roll her eyes, David’s looking right at her. “But we’ve got a body and someone who will be looking for him.”

  
  


“Oh!” David nods quickly. “The death certificate will be drawn up, and his body’s in the morgue. Todd Patensohn says he’ll have a plot at the graveyard made up, and since we can’t really give Hook the bill, it’ll have to come out of the town budget. Micheal Tillman says the car didn’t have GPS, but I think the phone might.”

  
  


“I can destroy the GPS in the phone.” Her years as a bailbondswoman weren’t for nothing.

  
  


David reaches for a pad and pen. “It’s at the hospital, I’ll write myself a note, and leave it in your office.”

  
  


She nods and prepares to take her exit. “Okay, good. Why don’t you get some sleep? I’ve got some things to take care of.”

  
  


He stares at her. “Didn’t you just come in?”

  
  


“Yeah, but,” She goes to collect her bearclaw and nicks his cup of coffee; at this point she doesn’t even care if he filled it full of soy milk and Splenda, she needs the caffeine. “There’s…some other stuff I gotta do.” She is not gonna bring up Regina again. “I’ll be back later. I’ll meet you at the station after I pick up Henry from school?”

  
  


He nods and she heads for the door. She glances behind her, noticing that he’s gone back to sit at the island again, still brooding.

  
  


<>

  
  


After spending the morning poring over the archaic texts for so long that they begin to look like English, but remain incomprehensible, Regina realizes two things: that she cannot do this alone, and that she cannot continue without sleeping. She places a pin under her hand that pokes her every time she lets it drop in exhaustion, a trick her mother used, but even this is not enough to keep her focused on her books. She has no wish to spill her deepest pains to anyone, least of all anyone in this town, so she’ll do this alone. But her memories are attacking her, she’s remembering things that feel brand new, and in the constant barrage she has trouble distinguishing between what has already happened, what will happen, and what never happened at all, and it does not help that the events in these categories are changing by the second.

  
  


The bottles in her cellar, while they do not call to her as they once did in years past, when she was the only one to remember all that she had done and all that was done to her, they do invite her to rest. She resists them at first, certain that she cannot understand how to break the curse with a bottle constantly to her mouth.

  
  


But then she remembers vividly.

  
  


<>

  
  


“Regina, darling.” Her mother said as she pushed Regina’s hair back from her face. “It is important that you understand what is to be expected of you once you marry the king. Your duties.”

  
  


“Mother—” Regina protested. There were some things she had discovered while eavesdropping on the scullery maids, and some she had guessed on her own, but she knew nothing of duty or expectation.

  
  


“Be quiet, darling. Just listen.”

  
  


<>

  
  


It’s as though it’s happening now, it’s as though it’s happening again, and it only tells her what is to come if she cannot find someway to break the time spell, cannot find some way to block her memories.

  
  


She finds herself in her cellar, pulling a bottle, any bottle from a shelf and corking it frantically, filling her mouth with as much as it can hold. She sinks to the floor, her mind dulled as she drifts into the first sleep she’s had in days, utterly dreamless.

  
  


When she awakens, only an hour later, she drinks again, finds that when her mind is dulled, so too are her memories. It’s enough to dispel the anxiety that comes from being unable to be sure exactly what she’ll remember next if anything at all. She keeps a bottle by her side as she deciphers the texts that can save her, just in case she’s forced to remember while reading.

  
  


She is grateful for her drunken reprieve from the memories she never wanted to think on again.

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina has finished reading over the texts she thought might help her understand the warped time spell, to no avail, and has moved on to her texts on memory modification in the hopes that they’ll stop her memories from resurfacing, when the doorbell rings. She knows it’s not Emma, because Emma isn’t currently able to touch her house, and it’s entirely too quiet to be a mob. She opens the front door and peers out.

  
  


Cora’s on her porch, subtly clutching at her head. And Regina should be immediately on her guard, but the alcohol has made her calm, calmer than she should be, and she opens the door wide.

  
  


“Come in, ,other.”

  
  


Cora nods sharply and steps through the front door, eyes focused on the ground. She walks past Regina into the living room, and in the back of her mind, Regina wonders how her mother knows where she’s going, but she pushes the thought away. If Cora was in her house before and knows her way around, it’s done, and there’s nothing she can do to change that. Rather, there might have been something she could have done, if Snow hadn’t been so monstrously incompetent.

  
  


She follows her mother into the living room, and sits beside her on the couch. “What are you doing here?”

  
  


Cora grimaces. “Not so loud, darling. I seem to be suffering through a headache.”

  
  


Regina blinks, then nods, she will acquiesce in the only way that makes sense to her at the moment. “What are you doing here?” she whispers.

  
  


Cora gives Regina a strained smile. “I just wanted to see you, dear. I—” she winces. Regina feels a vague memory at the back of her mind, subdued by the drink, one of Cora introducing her to her new lady’s maids. She quickly thinks of something else. Henry should be having lunch soon.

  
  


“Regina, you wouldn’t happen to have some tea would you? I should think it would help my…headache.” Regina eyes her mother, wary of any tricks. It’s possible Cora is actually in pain, but it’s also possible that she’s attempting to lure Regina into a false sense of security, in which case the best thing would be to wait for her mother’s move…either way her mother’s request for tea is one easily filled.

  
  


“Of course. Just give me a moment to put on the teapot—”

  
  


“No!” Cora raises a hand, and Regina flinches instinctively. Cora glances at her out of the corner of her eye, before tenderly placing a hand on Regina’s arm. “That…that won’t be necessary. I’ll just…” Cora waves her hand and Regina tenses.

  
  


Nothing happens.

  
  


“Mother—”

  
  


“I’m fine, Regina.” Cora waves her hand, but again, nothing happens. Regina discreetly flexes her fingers, and a hot cup of tea appears on the coffee table. Cora takes the cup with shaking hands, and breathes in the steam. “See, dear?”

  
  


It seems Cora actually is suffering. “Mother, is something wrong?”

  
  


Cora sips her tea. She places the cup back on the table and smiles at her daughter. “Nothing at all, dear.” She winces. “I’m just…remembering some things. Mainly your sulking before your wedding.” Regina purses her lips and chooses to ignore her mother’s callous view of her pre-marital distress. She realizes that if her memories are attacking her, it only stands to reason that Cora’s remembrance would be much worse. Every moment that Cora is remembering in the past is brand new, because if Regina thinks ahead in the day forty years ago, she can recall that she sent her mother through the mirror earlier that morning. Regina has to remember her interactions with Cora and the effects of Cora’s actions, but Cora’s changing memories are of being in an entirely different land.

  
  


Her mother can barely use her magic, she’s too distracted by her constant memories. It’s clear to Regina that Cora won’t be a threat. She smiles softly at her mother, and places a hand on her shoulder. “Mother, what is it you want?” If her mother doesn’t realize a spell is responsible for the current state of her memories, Regina won’t be informing her. It’s not that she wants her mother to suffer, it’s that her life is so much easier when she’s unable to cause her harm.

  
  


Cora looks Regina in the eye for the first time, and she balks at her mother’s red rims. This spell is affecting her mother in awful ways, and she feels guilty for withholding the truth of the current situation. But if the choice is between protecting Henry from Cora, and helping her mother overcome her attacking memories, she’ll always choose Henry, Regina is a mother fighting her own before she is a daughter. Besides, Cora has never approved of alcohol. “I just wanted to know if you had decided to join me and take back your town. And your son.”

  
  


Henry is an afterthought, Regina can tell, even through her mildly drunk haze. And while Cora is currently out of commission, if she thought that Regina would directly oppose her, she would force herself to attack, would attempt to crush Regina in any way she could. Though Regina still has her magic, she is not in any state to thwart her mother’s manipulations. If she had been distracted while conjuring tea for her mother, she might have poured boiling water on them both. She cannot let Cora know that she does not plan to join her, and as such, must tread carefully.

  
  


“Mother, I too find myself suffering through a headache. Perhaps once we both recuperate, we can, together, make plans to retrieve my son, and reconquer my town, _our town_.” Cora won’t be able to recover without the time spell breaking, unless Snow somehow rights the timeline and Cora ends up where she should have been in the past. And if that happens, Regina will know and she can deal with her mother then.

  
  


Cora gives a pained smile. “That’s a wonderful idea, my dear. I’m sure in a day or two, we’ll both be fine.” It’s a testament to how badly the spell is affecting her mother that she gives in immediately.

  
  


“I’ll need to know where to find you, Mother. Where are you hiding out?” If she can figure out where Cora is staying, she can send Emma to take her in, bind her magic.

  
  


Cora looks at her, and Regina schools her face, calm, as open as she can make it. Cora smiles. “I’d prefer to keep that to myself dear. You might be the victim of a truth spell, and made to betray me.”

  
  


Regina immediately backs off, she knows when her mother is testing her and knows when she’s expected to provide reassurance. “Of course, you’re right. Rumplestiltskin is still about.”

  
  


“No, dear.” Cora moves to lightly shake her head but then blanches at even the soft movement. “I’ve made a deal with him. He won’t be interfering with our plans.”

  
  


Regina can’t be positive, but the terms of her mother’s deal likely involved trading people, as those are Rumplestiltskin’s favored dealings. She barely manages to prevent herself from scowling, because she knows Cora, and she knows the imp, and the person traded was likely herself. She doesn’t know how much longer she can remain deferential or even civil to Cora. It’s time for her to go.

  
  


“How should I contact you once I’m well?”

  
  


Cora stares at the cup of tea for a moment, before standing slowly. She grasps Regina’s hands. “You just have to speak my name, and I’ll arrive.” Cora smiles, before disappearing in a cloud of purple smoke.

  
  


Regina sits on the couch a while longer, contemplating her next move. She waves her hand, disappearing the cup of tea. With another flick of her wrist, she modifies the barrier around the house to keep out Cora, instead of Emma, before standing and walking to her study, to pour herself another drink.

  
  


<>

  
  


Emma pulls up to Regina’s house and sits outside. She put off coming to see Regina long enough, stopped by Granny’s first because she just couldn’t drink David’s godawful excuse for coffee, but now it’s time to get some answers, and with trepidation she prepares herself. She’s not gonna knock on the door and allow herself to be shocked again, so instead she yells. “Regina! Come on! Henry says I have to talk to you!” And she knows she’s using Henry to get at Regina again, but she has no idea how to deal with Regina, how to get Regina to just _talk_ to her, without using Henry as leverage. She’s preparing to yell again when the door swings open, and Regina is leaning against the doorjamb, staring dazedly at her.

  
  


“Sheriff, I know it’s in your nature to be uncouth, but surely you’ve heard of knocking?”

  
  


Emma opens and closes her mouth in surprise. “I…I didn’t want to get shocked again.”

  
  


Regina raises her eyebrows. “Oh. Well I’ve modified the barrier. It won’t keep you out any longer. My mother was here earlier, so the barrier deters her instead.”

  
  


“Cora’s here?” Emma’s immediately on guard. “Where is she?”

  
  


“Sheriff Swan,” Regina smirks. “I do believe I used the past tense in describing her whereabouts, which should tell you that she’s no longer here.”

  
  


Emma relaxes slightly. “Well where did we go? She’s still dangerous—”

  
  


“Sheriff, sheriff.” Regina interrupts, smiling indulgently as though at a small child. “The time spell affects my mother too. She’s currently…incapacitated and will be until the spell is broken. Or until your mother mishandles the timeline even more than she already has and gives her back her power.” She steps back from the door.

  
  


“As I’ve said, the barrier will not hurt you. This of course means that you’re perfectly able to come in.” Regina turns and walks carefully back into the house.

  
  


Emma follows. “Regina, we need to talk about the time spell” Regina ignores her and heads farther into the house. Emma closes the door and groans exasperatedly. She watches Regina’s tentative gait.

  
  


“Regina, are you _drunk_?”

  
  


“Yes, mildly.” Regina actually _spins_ around and smiles, hollowly, like its the easiest thing in the world, and Emma thinks it must be because it’s so fake.

  
  


“What the hell, Regina!” Emma walks up the steps to stand in front of Regina. “We’re supposed to be figuring out the time spell, you can’t just get drunk—”

  
  


“Sheriff.” Regina smirks, and even though she’s clearly drunk, Emma still prepares herself to be insulted. “You of all people, should not be telling me when it’s appropriate for me to be drinking.” Regina turns around again. “However, you should feel free to make yourself comfortable. I’m going to get another drink.”

  
  


Emma grimaces, but follows Regina into the kitchen. She finds Regina pouring wine into a glass, so she stands awkwardly by the door, not sure what to do with herself, and unwilling to bring up the time spell if she doesn’t have Regina’s full attention. She glances around. The kitchen looks…clean, almost untouched. A look at the sink shows only dirty glasses.

  
  


She hesitates, but then asks. “When was the last time you ate?” Regina looks at Emma in vague surprise. Then she smiles, and taps a finger to her chin.

  
  


“I do believe I had a sandwich, right before you accused me of murder. It was delicious at first, but then it soured.” Regina takes a sip from her glass. “Perhaps it was the mustard?”

  
  


“Look, Regina,” Emma sighs. She shouldn’t have to keep apologizing for the one mistake when Regina has done so much worse. Not that she’s keeping score. “I said I was sorry. And that whole thing was a few days ago, shouldn’t you have something to eat now?”

  
  


Regina shrugs, and Emma isn’t sure she’s ever seen her look so relaxed, which is worrying, considering the circumstances, Regina’s probably not relaxed because she’s figured out how to break the time spell, Regina’s relaxed because she’s a few glasses of wine away from…whatever ridiculous thing Regina does while drunk. “I ate while I was in hiding. And I do plan on having dinner soon.”

  
  


“That’s good.” Emma will latch onto anything to make this situation less awkward. “What are you having?”

  
  


“Well,” Regina leans on the counter. “I was thinking apples, crushed into liquid and then left to ferment. And perhaps grapes, treated the same way. Luckily, I already have some pre-made and bottled in the cellar.” She smirks. “And gin.”

  
  


Emma rolls her eyes. “Maybe you should just have something beer-battered inste—”

  
  


Regina narrows her eyes and slams down her glass. “There will be beer-battered _nothing_ in my house,” she says sharply.

  
  


“Seriously, Regina,” Emma groans, sick of messing around. “I need you to be present so we can figure out how to break the time spell. So you need to eat something, sober up, and _help me_.”

  
  


Regina sneers. “What do you think I’ve been doing these past few days?”

  
  


“Drinking?!” Emma asks incredulously, throwing up her hands.

  
  


“Not just drinking.” Regina picks up her glass and takes another sip. “I’ve been researching the time spell. I’ve put a barrier spell on Henry, your apartment and my house.”

  
  


Emma sighs. “Well that’s good at least. What did you find out? About the time spell?”

  
  


Regina rolls her eyes and takes another mouthful of wine. “That if your mother was anything but a spoiled, bumbling, inept, floundering—”

  
  


“I get it, Regina. Snow fucked up.”

  
  


“Mmm.” Regina drains her glass. “Yes, if she hadn’t fucked up, Co-my mother would be gone by now.”

  
  


“Yeah, I got that. Do you know anything else? Like what Snow’s up to?” Emma watches Regina frown in confusion.

  
  


“She changed something—”

  
  


“What?” Emma instinctively puts a hand on her heart. “What did she change?”

  
  


“I wouldn’t know, dear, she changed it.” Regina reaches for the wine bottle again.

  
  


Emma stares as Regina fills her glass up to the brim, leaning down to sip at the wine before it overflows.

  
  


“Regina?”

  
  


“Mmm?” Regina looks up, and Emma recoils slightly at the blankness in her eyes.

  
  


“How do you feel about Snow? Right now?”

  
  


Regina grins, actually _grins_ , and lifts her glass to her lip. She takes a healthy gulp. “I loathe her. As I always have. For ruining my time spell, and…” She pauses and takes another liberal sip. “I…I can’t quite remember why I began to hate her in the first place. Those memories have faded. Or been replaced, I suppose.”

  
  


“What do you mean you can’t remember?” Emma takes a step forward, but stops herself when Regina takes a step back.

  
  


“I can’t remember means that I have no memory of what caused me to hate her in the first place. It means I can’t remember, honestly dear, invest in a dictionary.” Regina turns again, and takes another swig of wine.

  
  


Emma places her hands on the counter. If Regina can’t remember why she hates Snow…that must be what Snow changed. Which means all of Regina’s reasoning for the curse has changed.

  
  


“Why did you cast the dark curse?”

  
  


Regina doesn’t turn, though she does shrug her shoulders. “I know that perhaps your comprehension is impaired, but I do believe I’ve already said that I don’t remember. Though,” She places the glass on the countertop. “,if I had to guess…”

  
  


She turns and smiles at Emma. “Am I married?” She waves her hands, indicating the room as though to say, _look at all I have_.

  
  


Emma’s lips thin, she swallows hard. Regina doesn’t remember that Snow told Cora about Daniel. Which means that Snow changed the timeline, so that Regina doesn’t know that Snow told Cora about Daniel, now and in the past. Emma steps away from the counter, as Regina watches her curiously.

  
  


“I have to…go pick up Henry from school.” Emma is not prepared, is in no way ready to deal with Regina when she finds out the real reason that Cora found out about Daniel. She walks quickly from the kitchen, and heads towards the front door.

  
  


Regina calls after her. “Be my guest, though I hope you’re prepared to wait. He isn’t dismissed for another 45 minutes!”

  
  


Emma slams the door behind her, and heads straight to the bug. She can’t juggle this, she can’t be in-between Snow and Regina like this, can’t just _choose._ Emma’s been the bad one before, she’s never executed anyone or devastated worlds, but she’s hurt people, she’s thieved, conned and lied, and she knows some of the people she’s deceived never recovered from meeting her, and her parents are good, so good and she can’t just give that up. She can’t just switch sides, even if Regina deserves to know it was Snow’s fault that Daniel died, she can’t bring herself to betray her mother, can’t align herself with Regina against Snow, not when they’re so different, she tells herself they’re so completely different, the people Emma hurt were wounded but lived, Regina killed and left the bodies to rot. Besides, the change couldn’t have been so large. Her heart is still beating, racing.

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


Emma sits outside the school for half an hour mulling over her decision to keep the truth of Snow’s betrayal from Regina. It’s easier to blame Regina for all the things that have gone wrong in her life, easier to just not tell Regina about the one thing Snow did wrong.

  
  


The bell rings, jerking her out of her reverie. The few students who have actually showed up to school pour from the doors, she makes a note to tell the townspeople that Cora likely won’t be a problem. The children all stand around in the schoolyard, making no sudden movements, waiting for their parents and being closely watched by teachers. Emma supposes one good thing about Storybrooke is that it conforms easily to any weirdness that crops up. People change their habits like it’s nothing, like they’ve always been on the lookout for identity stealing witches. She jumps at the knock on her window and it’s Henry, so she quickly reaches over to open the door.

  
  


“Emma,” Henry slides into the passenger seat. “My new teacher wants to talk to you.”

  
  


She nods absently and exits the car, walking into the schoolyard. There’s a tall woman with dark brown skin in her mid-thirties waving her over. The woman sticks out a hand. “I’m Dioba Konate,” Her accent shifts noticeably when she says her name. “Mary Margaret Blanchard’s replacement.”

  
  


Emma shakes the offered hand. “Emma Swan, Henry’s…birth mother.”

  
  


“I know.” Dioba’s smile is firm; it’s one that has clear boundaries, a limited kindness. “Did you know Henry speaks Spanish? Because Henry apparently speaks Spanish.” Dioba bends her index finger underneath her chin, and looks at Emma quizzically. Emma’s immediately on the defensive, because how didn’t she _know_ that?

  
  


“Umm, no. I…didn’t know he spoke Spanish, sorry.” Emma scratches the back of her head. She doesn’t need anyone else to point out how little she knows about Henry, how little she knows about being his mother, she _knows_.

  
  


Dioba scrutinizes Emma for a moment, nods slowly, then launches into a fast paced explanation. “I don’t know why I never picked up on it, I mean, I’m not his primary teacher usually, but I have worked with Henry’s class before, I teach languages here, I suppose it must be a result of the time spell, and anyway, today we were working on a group exercise in math class, and there was an odd number of students, so he was working alone. I went to check on him and heard him muttering his numbers in Spanish. I asked him about it, and he said he speaks it, but I didn’t really get a chance to ask him more.”

  
  


Emma has not taught the kid Spanish. “Maybe Regina speaks it?”

  
  


Dioba raises an eyebrow and Emma can’t help but think that maybe not everyone in town thinks she’s the rightful mother, “I thought that was more likely, but I wasn’t sure. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about Regina’s background would you? In the old world, or even this one? There’s a…group she might be interested in, and none of us have been able to get close enough to her to ask.”

  
  


Regina won’t even talk to her seriously. “I really wouldn’t know. We’re not that close, I don’t know that much about her.”

  
  


“Mmm.” Dioba covers her mouth with a hand, and Emma can tell she’s trying to hide a smirk, “Enough to cast a spell together. By the way, I…have some old world experience with magical languages and might be able to help break the spell, so contact me. I’m in the school directory.” Dioba smiles again and then heads towards the remaining children in the schoolyard.

  
  


Emma nods at her retreating figure and hastily walks to the car where Henry’s watching her curiously.

  
  


“You speak Spanish?” she asks him as she plops into the drivers seat.

  
  


“Yeah, Mom taught me.” He looks down. “I was…mad at her, so I haven’t spoken it since…recently. She used to sing to me in Spanish, but I don’t know where she learned it.”

  
  


She turns to stare at him in surprise. “Your mom can sing?”

  
  


Henry smirks. “Not really, but she tries.” He bites his lip and clenches his hands into fists. “Did you talk to her? When am I going to see her again?”

  
  


She sighs. “Yeah, kid, I talked to her. But I don’t know when you’re gonna see her again. We’ll talk about it later.” She has no desire to tell him his mother is currently drinking her way through her cellar. “Look, I’ve gotta stop by the station for a while, we’ll talk about it later.” She pulls out of the parking spot.

  
  


The bug jumps as they roll directly over a tree stump, and Emma stifles a curse. If that tree broke her car, she’s gonna seriously injure an appliance, the bug lasted her over a decade and a fucking time spell is going to break her car.

  
  


<>

  
  


Henry and Emma enter the station and David is there, just sitting at his desk, doodling on a piece of paper like they don’t have to check for possible Cora sightings.

  
  


“Where’s Ruby?” Emma asks as Henry puts down his bookbag.

  
  


David looks up in surprise. “Oh, she had to go back to Granny’s for the afternoon rush. She says she’ll take the evening shift.” Emma nods and glances at Henry.

  
  


“Kid—”

  
  


Henry smiles at her. “Are you gonna tell me what happened with my mom?” Emma has to tell him eventually, but she doesn’t know how to bring up the drinking. She doesn’t even know if Regina is drinking because Snow changed something and made her a drunk. Can time travel induce alcoholism? She doesn’t know anything, she spent at least twenty minutes at the mansion, and all she knows is that Regina’s got something against _beer-battering_ , and that Snow is changing shit and—

  
  


“Yeah, kid, I’ll tell you. But I have to talk to David first. So go into my office and start on your homework, okay?

  
  


“But Emma—”

  
  


“Henry.” He grudgingly grabs his bookbag and obeys, and maybe she’s getting the hang of this parenting thing. She’s dealt with a full on crying fit, and he’s listening to her at least.

  
  


“So,” David spins back and forth in his chair. “You talked to Regina?”

  
  


Emma nods and pulls up a chair, leaning in to talk quietly. “Yeah. And she’s a mess.”

  
  


David frowns. “What do you mean?”

  
  


Emma sighs and runs a hand through her hair. “She was drunk when I pulled up. Like, goofy drunk. Do you remember her being like that during the curse or—?”

  
  


“Well,” He shrugs. “,I was in a coma for most of it, and I barely interacted with her after. But…she was sober whenever I saw her. I mean, when we had dinner, she had a glass of wine but—”

  
  


“Wait.” Emma holds up a hand. “You had dinner with Regina? Like, you and Kathryn and her?”

  
  


“Umm…” David taps his fingers on the desk and glances away. Emma narrows her eyes. “It was…just the two of us. Henry was with Archie for the night and she was…upset and—”

  
  


Emma shakes her head vigourously. “You know what, I really don’t wanna know.”

  
  


“Emma!” David leans towards her and whispers. “Nothing…happened. She…might have tried to kiss me, but—”

  
  


“She tried to kiss you?!” Emma leans back in her seat. “David, I seriously don’t need to know anymore. Please, don’t tell me.”

  
  


David sighs. “Emma, I swear, of all of my…indiscretions during the curse, sleeping with Regina wasn’t one of them.”

  
  


Emma eyes him, but he’s looking at her so earnestly. “Okay. Well, even if you couldn’t tell during the curse, because you didn’t know her that well…” David nods quickly. “She’s drunk now. She said she’d been drunk for a few days, at least since she cast the time spell. So maybe Snow made her…a drunk?”

  
  


David frowns and shakes his head. “What do you mean Snow _made_ her?”

  
  


Emma nods. “Yeah, apparently Snow is changing some things in the past? Like, Regina doesn’t remember why she cast the dark curse.”

  
  


“She cast it because she was jealous of Snow for being prettier than her.” David says this confidently as though there’s actually some sense in that explanation.

  
  


“No.” She shakes her head and he frowns at her. “That’s not what happened. That doesn’t even make any sense. Don’t you remember?”

  
  


“That’s definitely what Snow told me happened. I remember. And of course it doesn’t make any sense, it’s Regina. That’s what makes her so terrifying, she doesn’t make any sense. And that’s why,” He reaches for the paper he’d been doodling on. “,we have to arrest her, and take her magic. She’s drunk and…goofy like you said, so she’ll be easy to capture. I drew up a warrant and everything, we’ll go as soon as Ruby’s off her shift late tonight.” He beams at her proudly.

  
  


“David—”

  
  


“What do you mean you’re gonna arrest her?” Emma stands and turns to find Henry standing behind her, with a pencil in his hand.

  
  


“Kid, I told you to stay in my office,” she says, exasperated.

  
  


Henry looks at the pencil in his hand. “I know, but my pencil is dull and your sharpener is broken.” That’s right she’d ‘fixed’ it during the whole Kathryn kidnap thing, and she had never actually fixed it after. “And what are you talking about? You can’t arrest her!”

“Henry—”

  
  


“No, Emma, wait.” David goes to Henry and crouches down to his eye level. “Henry, I know this is hard to hear, but Regina is a danger right now. She cast the time spell and got Snow stuck in the past.”

  
  


Henry opens his mouth to protest, but David plows on. “We need to take precautions against her joining up with Cora and wreaking havoc on the town. So…it would be for the best if we took her in and took her magic.” He shifts uncomfortably. “This is something the town needs to do, for everyone’s safety.”

  
  


“But she wouldn't be able to help herself if something happened!” Henry clenches his fists at his sides and screws up his face and Emma’s sure he going to start crying soon, and she can’t help but feel like a shitty parent, this will be the second time in two days that he’s had a breakdown.

  
  


David sighs and stands and puts a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “I know this upsets you, but it’s for the good of the town. The greater good.” Henry looks down and clenches his fist harder, and if Emma didn’t partially agree with David’s logic, she’d chew him out for upsetting Henry. “Emma, I’m going to go on patrol. We need to think about hiring another deputy though, we’re stretched a little thin. I was thinking maybe Grumpy? He doesn’t know how to shoot a gun, but he’s pretty strong.”

  
  


Emma groans. “We have enough problems without a drunk deputy, David. And besides, doesn’t he have to light the lamps?” She blinks. She’s becoming way too accustomed to the changes to Storybrooke way too fast.

  
  


“Yeah, but,” David grins. “He’ll do it because it’ll earn him points with Sister Astrid. And he can work the night shift. He’ll light the lamps and then go on patrol. The extra responsibility will be good for him, keep him sober.” He moves towards the door. “I trust him.”

  
  


Emma runs a hand across her face, but nods. “Okay, I guess I’ll…see you later?”

  
  


“I’m going to see Mother Superior about some magic blocking cuffs.” David calls back as he heads out the door. “I’ll call you when we’re ready to move in on Regina.”

  
  


The door slams behind David. Emma glances at Henry, who’s still staring at the floor.

  
  


“Henry—”

  
  


“My mom always wants me to pick up my socks,” Henry interrupts her. “But on Sundays she always wants eggs for breakfast and she likes carmelized onions on the side. I don't like any kind of eggs, Emma, I _hate_ onions. And she needs migraine medicine after works sometimes, and I don't usually get headaches, but we keep it in the house cause she needs it.” Emma has no idea where he’s going with this.

  
  


She leans down to his eye level. “Look, Kid—”

  
  


Henry looks at her, and he’s got tears in his eyes, and she knows she’s going to fold, she’ll do whatever he wants as long as he _doesn’t cry_ , even if that’s not arresting his mom, which honestly, she feels a little weird about going after Regina when she’s drunk. He sniffles but continues, his voice firm. “I knew what would happen if the curse broke. And…my mom knew. She would die.”

  
  


“ _Oh_ , Henry—”

  
  


His voice starts to waver. “I thought I could handle it. She was gonna...she was gonna be my sacrifice. No one else loves her, Emma.” Henry’s voice is teary, and his eyes are teary, and Emma goes to pull him into a hug, but he steps back, determined to say his piece. “I thought if it would make everyone else happy...then I could be sad cause she was gone. I could be _brave_. But then when the curse broke, I didn't want to be. The reason I told you to save her, was because I didn't want her to die, because she's my mom.”

  
  


“Oh, Hen…” Emma manages to pull him into a hug, and he cries into her chest. “Of course she’s your mom. And she’s not gonna die, don’t worry, we won’t arrest her, okay? She’s your mom.”

  
  


Henry abruptly pulls back and glares at her, eyes red. “That's not the point! She's a person. She's my mom, and sometimes she gets scared and sometimes she gets angry and sometimes she’s happy and she wants things and needs things. I was gonna let her die! I was gonna let her think she didn't matter to me. She's my mom. But she's also a _person,_ Emma! She's not mine to sacrifice!”

  
  


He’s sobbing heavily at this point, fat tears rolling down his face, and it’s the third time in two days that he’s upset because of something Emma said, but now she finally gets it. Regina is a person, and if Emma’s going to talk to her, then it has to be because she’s a person, and not because she’s Henry’s mom, or their current villain.”Okay, Henry. I get it. I’m sorry.” Emma pulls Henry into a hug, and this time he stays.

  
  


“And…and,” He pulls back from her, but doesn’t remove himself from her arms. “,she was never drunk when I was little. Not even during tax season.” He sniffles as Emma nods. If Regina’s drinking hasn’t been changed because of the time spell, then that means she’s been drinking for an entirely different reason.

  
  


“Okay, kid. I’ll go see her again this evening. I’ll talk to her. _Really_ talk to her.” She smiles at him, and he smiles back, tentatively. “For now, why don’t you clean up a bit, and we’ll go get something to eat at Granny’s?” He sniffles again and nods. She gently pushes him in the direction of the station bathroom.

  
  


She stares after his retreating figure. He’s a kid, and honestly kids are kind of terrifyingly fragile, but he’s her kid, and though this is the third time in two days that he’s cried, it’s also the second time that she’s made him feel better. She glances at the closed bathroom door before walking quickly to her office. With everything that’s changing, everything that might change, she’s struck by a fit of fear, that like Regina, she might start to forget. So she picks up the photo on her desk, the one of her and Henry outside Granny’s, her arm slung low around his shoulders, both of them grinning. She pops it out of it’s frame and flips it over. On the back she writes in pen, _Remember your son, Henry_.

  
  


“Emma! Where are you?” Henry shouts from the bullpen.

  
  


“Coming!” She yells back. She hastily props the picture up against her overflowing pile of paperwork and leaves the office.

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


Regina spends the day drinking and reading, until evening comes, and the candle wicks in the street lamps are lit. She glances at the clock. Maintaining a pleasant buzz throughout the day, walking the fine line between staggering drunk and only stumbling drunk has been hard, particularly in heels, but she’s done it, relying only on wine and cider. But at eight on the dot, she’s going to go for the hard liquor. She’ll fall asleep in a chair, or a sofa, anywhere but her bed. She had hoped to never have to fear sleeping in a bed again, but Snow White has taken her sense of safety, and she wants to say _again_ , but she can’t remember why she feels so strongly that this is not the first time Snow White’s harmed her.

  
  


She’s in the kitchen, preparing dinner when she feels something poking at her magic, someone’s on her porch hesitant to knock. Hopefully it’s not her mother, she hopes Cora hasn’t yet found someway around the forced memories of the time spell. She ambles to the door and pulls it wide open. It’s Emma, who jumps upon seeing her.

  
  


“Sheriff Swan. Won’t you come in?” Regina turns and heads back up the steps into the foyer. “I felt your nervous energy, poking at my barrier.” Emma fidgets in embarrassment.

  
  


“Regina.” She hears the door close behind her and heads back into the kitchen.

  
  


Emma watches Regina’s meandering walk and steels herself to actually talk to Regina and figuring out what’s going on, why she’s so drunk. She won’t bring up Henry, won’t mention how much he wants his mother to just be okay. Because they’ve relied too much on the fact that Regina will do anything for her son, and Emma’s beginning to realize that maybe getting Regina what she wants as a person, instead of what she wants as a mother, might be the way to go.

  
  


She follows Regina into the kitchen, and leans awkwardly against the door as she did earlier in the day. But this time she won’t just force answers to her questions. She has to figure out what’s up with Regina…but she can’t just ask. Everything she knows about Regina as a _person_ with a past outside of murder, she’s learned second hand . She looks around at the kitchen. The sink is still full of glasses, but Regina has out a cutting board and she’s chopping a tomato. So at least she’s eating after all. But there’s a bottle of wine on the counter and no glass in sight, so either she’s run out of clean glasses and isn’t bothering to wash the dirty ones or she’s cut out the middleman and is just drinking from the bottle. Both possibilities suck.

  
  


“I do have to eat, Sheriff Swan.” Emma jumps in surprise, moving away from the doorjamb. She shoves her hands in her pockets. Regina turns around and smirks at her. “I could feel you staring. It’s rude, you know.”

  
  


Emma shrugs. “Umm. Yeah, sorry.” Regina inclines her head and goes back to the cutting board. “Look,” Emma starts and Regina pauses in mid-chop, her back still turned. Emma can’t just ask her _Why are you so drunk_. “So…how did you create the time spell?”

  
  


Regina puts the knife down and sighs. She turns and smiles lazily.

  
  


“Sex.”

  
  


Emma blinks. “Huh, what?”

  
  


Regina smirks at her, entertained at the prospect of making Emma uncomfortable. “Sex. I created the time spell, with Maleficent. To re-experience really good sex.” Emma’s face flushes red.

  
  


“Sex…with Maleficent?”

  
  


Regina takes a swig from her bottle and nods, and Emma’s never seen or heard her so…crass.

  
  


“Wait, Maleficent’s a dragon. You had sex with a dragon?” And Emma absolutely will not picture it, will not think of Regina _naked_ …she looks down at the floor, the wall, the sink, anywhere but Regina’s too-amused face.

  
  


“She had a humanish form, though she retained her horns.” _Horns_. “And you’re one to talk. Who was Henry’s father, a fellow thug?” Regina raises her eyebrows; Emma has no right to judge her choice of sexual partners.

  
  


“ _No._ He was…just a guy I knew.” A guy who got her sent to jail while pregnant, but Regina doesn’t need to know the details.

  
  


“Mhmm.”

  
  


Emma groans, frustrated and unwilling to go into her sexual history just because Regina’s feeling chatty, even if she did want Regina to talk to her. “Look, what does sex have to do with the time spell?”

  
  


Regina rolls her eyes and takes another swallow of wine. She sighs. She’s committed to explaining the whole thing to Emma, she might as well give specifics. “The spell was created so that I could go back in time to re-experience really excellent sex with Maleficent. We both got rather bored waiting for our revenges to come to fruition.” Emma blinks furiously and shakes her head. Regina smirks. “I would make changes, and she would remember, experience them in the present time. And then, once I _slotted_ back into the present, she would go back in time to do the same to me. We passed almost three months that way.” Emma coughs nervously. “And—”

  
  


Regina freezes. She walks quickly to the sink and vomits violently over her dirty glasses, congealing wine and stomach bile. Emma rushes forward and attempts to pull back her hair and place a soothing hand on her back, but Regina shakes her off. “Don’t touch me.” Regina heaves again, then takes a deep, shuddering breath. “He’s going to touch me again,” she whispers.

  
  


Emma takes a step back and stares. “Who?” she asks.

  
  


“Leave.” Regina says, her voice firm. She won’t have Emma see her so…low.

  
  


“Regina, what—”

  
  


“ _Leave._ ” Regina points a shaking finger to the door, she doesn’t want to be alone, she’s never wanted to be alone, time left her alone for almost two decades but since Henry she has become unaccustomed to the feeling, and the alcohol has stopped working, and now she _remembers_ , and she does not want to be alone. And gods help her, Emma leaves.

  
  


<>

  
  


Snow watched her father from her position crouched in the wardrobe in his study. She had been planning to rummage through his letters, anything to give her perspective on the situations she had never bothered to pay attention to when she was actually twelve. But he had come in and sat in one of his chairs. So she was hiding, less cramped than she had expected to be. She heard the door open.

  
  


“Your majesty.” It was Cora’s voice, and Snow felt the hairs on the back of her neck rise. “Regina, greet his majesty.”

  
  


Regina had no idea why her mother had dragged her out of her quarters, she’d only been told to be quiet and the tight grasp on her arm had mandated she follow.

  
  


“Your majesty.” Snow peeked out from the wardrobe and watched Regina’s stiff curtsy.

  
  


Her father stood. “As I said, Regina, you’re lucky to have a mother who looks out for you.” Regina gave him a strained smile. “I expect you to be the same for my Snow.”

  
  


Regina nodded. “Of course, your maj—” Cora squeezed her arm and Regina flinched. “Sire.”

  
  


The king walked towards Regina, where Cora held the girl in her grip. Regina stiffened. “That is after all, what this marriage is all about,” he said.

  
  


Leopold leaned in and kissed Regina firmly on the lips. Regina resisted at first, but as her mother’s grip on her tightened she went slack, allowed him to invade her mouth, he kissed her and it felt like drowning. She closed her eyes tight, unwilling to look at his face. _You are my surrender_ she thought. But she could not stop the tears that fell, she would mourn her marriage, her debellation.

  
  


Snow burrowed farther back into the wardrobe, unwilling to watch.

  
  


“It is time,” She heard her father’s voice drift farther away. “,that I take my leave. The ball celebrating our union will be late this evening, as discussed. I shall expect to see you both there and in fine spirits.

  
  


In the absence of Regina’s answer, Cora’s simpering voice rang out. “Of course, Sire.” Snow counted her father’s footsteps as he left the room.

  
  


“You did well, Regina, for you.” Cora said.

  
  


Regina whimpered. “Mother—”

  
  


Cora’s voice strained. “The king requested…it is his right to you and as his soon to be queen, you need to truly understand your duty to him. I was expected to do the same when I married your father, and the opportunities my marriage afforded me more than made up for it. So stop crying. Dear. It’s unbecoming, don’t ruin your face so.” She sighed as Regina sniffled. “Clean yourself up and then join us for tea.” Cora’s voice began to fade. “I do _not_ want you whining to your father. He spoils you.”

  
  


The door closed again. Snow heard sharp footsteps, and as she looked through the wardrobe doors she saw Regina pull a vase from the mantle and vomit violently.

  
  


Snow sank farther into the wardrobe and prepared to wait for Regina to stop crying. She remembered the first time Regina married her father. All the cooks and maids had told her that a bride is always nervous before her wedding day. Snow thought of what her father would likely do to Regina, what he probably had done the first time. She thought, _I’m going to be sick_. But she remained in the wardrobe until Regina’s sobs quieted and her footsteps faded from the room.

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina wipes a dishcloth over her face and takes a deep breath. She reaches for the bottle of wine, then stills herself when she realizes she never heard the front door close. She leaves the kitchen to find Emma on the couch, elbows on her knees, hands clasped between her legs, waiting. Regina scowls, just because she doesn’t want to be alone, doesn’t give Emma the right to completely disregard her order. “I thought I told you to leave.”

  
  


Emma looks at her earnestly. “There’s no way I’m gonna just…just let you go through,” She gestures at Regina. “Whatever’s happening to you, alone.”

  
  


“What makes you think you have any say in the matter?” Regina crosses her arms.

  
  


“Look,” Emma scratches her head nervously, because Regina’s right, she’s an adult and if she wants to deal with this on her own, she should be allowed to. “Hen—” Emma stops herself. She wasn’t going to use Henry to make Regina do things anymore. She sighs. “Maybe you should have a glass of water? And some food? I don’t know, sober up?”

  
  


“I can’t.”

  
  


“What do you mean, you can’t?”

  
  


Regina sits down on the couch, leaving a space between her and Emma. “The alcohol…dulls the memories. Without it, I’d have to remember, re-experience the results of Snow’s changes.” The alcohol isn’t working anymore, but she refuses to surrender it completely and be at the mercy of her past.

  
  


Emma nods thoughtfully. “Okay. You’re right.” She can’t expect Regina to just give up the only thing that’s been keeping the time spell away.

  
  


Regina sighs and waves her hand. At the very least she wants to wash the vomit taste out of her mouth. A glass of water appears on the table. She takes a sip, then glances at Emma. “Why are you still here?”

  
  


“Because...” Regina won’t let her help if she thinks Emma’s trying to save her, she’s always been scornful of the whole savior thing, and it’s not like Emma can’t relate to Regina’s past. “You shouldn’t have to go through this alone.”

  
  


Regina scoffs. “This is history, dear. I already went through it, your mother is forcing it on me again. I’ve gone through it alone.”

  
  


Emma takes a deep breath. “Yeah, so have I.” Regina looks at her quizzically, and Emma knows that she can’t just be vague and expect Regina to take her word for it, there’s no trust between them that isn’t ultimately based on Henry’s well-being, and she won’t use Henry to manipulate Regina anymore. “I was…seventeen when I got pregnant with Henry. And his father…was twenty-six, and set me up to be arrested, and that’s why I had him in jail. Later, when I was older, when the fact that I was underage actually _meant_ something to me, I couldn’t do anything about it, he was long gone. And I was pretty messed up for a while, I almost got sent back to jail. I didn’t though, and I managed to get myself together, but I didn’t trust anyone, didn’t have anyone to trust, so I had to do it alone and…I shouldn’t have had to do it alone, and I know it’s not the same, but you shouldn’t have to do this alone either.” Emma sits and waits, she’s already regretting being that open, Regina’s not saying anything, either her confession managed to convince Regina to talk to her or she’s about to be kicked out and this time Regina will probably follow her to the door.

  
  


“Snow and I are six years apart. But her father is older than mine.”

  
  


They’re quiet for a few moments and Regina’s obviously crying. She’s quiet about it, attempting to discretely wipe her eyes, but she’s clearly crying and Emma can’t bring herself to point it out. “Regina,” Regina looks up and her eyes are red rimmed. “Have you been experiencing this since…since the spell was cast?” Regina clears her throat to answer, but then just nods. Emma stares at a point on the wall, because if what she thinks is happening to Regina has actually been happening, then they’ve damned her. “Has—”

  
  


“No.” Regina shakes her head. “In the past…I haven’t been married yet.” Emma breathes a quiet sigh of relief and can bring herself to look at Regina again. “But that time is approaching.” She hesitates for a moment but then says quietly. “I didn’t remember my wedding night the first time, I was so drunk, it felt like my glass was never just allowed to be…empty.”

  
  


Emma has to stop herself from scowling, because this is Regina’s tragedy not hers, and it’s only through everyone’s machinations that it led to her own. “Cora—”

  
  


Regina shakes her head. “My father made sure my goblet was always full that night. It was the first time I had been allowed more than a few sips, Mother never allowed me to taste the wine with dinner, so I only had what he could sneak me.” She sighs heavily and it turns into a short sob, which she tries to suppress by placing her hand over her mouth. She says softly. “But my mother is still in Galabond. She hasn’t been sent to Wonderland. And it would be just like her to keep me sober to…to teach me.” Regina sobs, but quickly wipes her eyes.

  
  


Emma reaches out a hand to steady Regina, but retracts it quickly, remembering Regina’s demand in the kitchen. She doesn’t want to be touched, and it’s obvious to Emma now why that is. “What can you…is there any way to stop this, I mean shouldn’t we be doing research or…?”

  
  


“What do you think I’ve been doing the past three days?” Regina snaps, but then sighs and places her head in her hands. “The alcohol is just so that…if there was anything to be remembered it would be easier not to, but I was also looking for some way to not have to…remember any of this.”

  
  


“Did you find anything?” Emma prays that Regina did, because she’s so out of her depth, she knew magic could bring curses and erase memories, but changing the past is so far from what she’s ever known magic to do.

  
  


Regina pauses, but then nods. Even if it won’t work, she might as well bring it up if they’re being honest. “There’s a spell, a little thing, to suppress memory. Rumplestiltskin cast it on me some nights when I couldn’t sleep and…some mornings when…while I was still married to Snow’s father. But I can’t cast it on myself and Rumple no longer has any reason to help me. He’s made a deal with my mother and likely won’t break it just because I ask, and I have nothing left he wants.” She laughs bitterly. “I actually considered going back to my mother.”

  
  


“I could do it.” Emma offers.

  
  


<>

  
  


Henry leaves the apartment building and looks down the candlelit street. Archie had been easy to lure to sleep. All Henry had to do was mime sulking and Archie had let him watch whatever he wanted. He’s never seen an adult able to stay awake through two consecutive hours of Adventures from the Book of Virtues, which plays on repeat on some 24 hour Canadian kids channel. For a psychiatrist, Archie is ridiculously easy to fool. Henry feels a little bit bad about tricking him, but Emma says his mom has been drinking a lot and his mom never drinks that much, not even when her job is really stressing her out, and he has to know she’s all right. And besides, even though Emma said she wouldn’t let David and Ruby arrest her, he still wants to be there, just in case. He doesn’t know what he’ll do, but at the very least he can cling to his mom and throw a tantrum until they just give up. Only his mom really knows how to make him stop shrieking and he’s pretty sure she won’t help the people trying to arrest her.

  
  


He strolls down the street, feeling invincible with his mom’s protection, and planning exactly how he’ll get into the house. He’s left his key on the hook, just so that if Archie wakes up and can’t find him, he won’t immediately suspect that Henry’s gone home. The apartment is his home right now, but the mansion is always his home in the background, waiting for him, it’s where he’s left all the memories that blanket him in the moments when it’s quiet and he thinks of his mom, it’s home, she’s home. There’s a super secret extra key by the back door, hidden in a vaguely heart shaped rock near the violets. He’d only gotten the joke in the last year, though it’s been there all his life, he’s finding more and more that his mother had quiet little inside jokes with herself that went right over his head.

  
  


Every year, a few days after Thanksgiving, the mayoral office would send a basket of twenty-three misshapen apples to all the businesses in Storybrooke run by parents with children in Mary Margaret’s class. And each year, from December first up until the day before Christmas Eve, every day Mary Margaret would get thirteen misshapen apples on her desk. _Now_ he gets why his mother was so cheerful the day after Thanksgiving. He’d always just thought she was relieved to be done with the cooking.

  
  


“Henry!” He stops and smiles. This is what he’s been waiting for. “Henry!” Ruby’s car pulls to a stop beside him, and she climbs out and rushes over to him. “Henry, what are you doing out? It’s dangerous!” She ushers him into her car.

  
  


He gives her a shit-eating grin. “Just taking a walk.”

  
  


“Wait.” She swivels in her seat and looks at him closely. “What condiment does Henry like in his favorite drink?”

  
  


Henry stares at her for a moment before answering. “Cinnamon’s not a condiment, Ruby. It’s a spice.”

  
  


“I know that,” She starts the car. “But I was trying to trip you up in case you were Cora. She doesn’t know this world, maybe she’d say…I don’t know, mustard or something.”

  
  


He laughs and she smiles at him. When he’s around Emma, or his grandparents, he always feels like he has to do what good would do, or at least _know_ what good would do. But with Ruby, he can just be himself, and they don’t have to talk about what his mom has been doing, or how she’s dangerous, and he doesn’t have to think about when he was younger all the time, doesn’t have to wonder if all his good memories are only because of the curse, if he’s really who his mother raised him to be just because she wanted leverage over his grandparents. He doesn’t have to question his mom’s love, because with Ruby he’s not his mom’s pawn, he’s himself and he feels like a person, not a potential tool of the evil queen, and…it’s simple.

  
  


“What were you doing out in the first place? I’m taking you back to the apartment.” She begins to turn the wheel, and he reaches out quickly to stop her. He just left, he’s not going all the way back.

  
  


“No!” he says quickly. She looks at him in surprise. “I have to go to my mom’s house.”

  
  


“Yeah, I said I’d—”

  
  


“No, Ruby. I have to go to the mansion.” She begins to shake her head. “ _Both_ my moms are there.”

  
  


“Well, if you’re sure…” He settles into his seat as she pulls off, ignoring her glances at him.

  
  


They reach the house quickly, he’d been almost halfway there when she picked him up. If no one had come across him, he would have just finished his walk. Ruby puts her car in park. “Henry, are you sure—”

  
  


“Yeah, Ruby! My moms are inside.” He leaves the car and walks to the porch, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. He stops in front of the door, and waves to Ruby. As soon as he’s sure she’s gone, he jumps over the side of the porch and makes his way to the back door.

<>

  
  


  
  


Regina begins to sneer, but stops herself. “You don’t know how to use your magic, dear.”

  
  


“I cast the spell on the dreamcatcher.” Emma retorts quickly, because she’s not a _complete_ amateur.

  
  


“Didn’t Rumplestiltskin cast it for you?”

  
  


Emma flushes “Yeah, but—”

  
  


“Whatever deal he’s made with my mother had probably already been made at that point. He was implicit in setting me up, so that I would be more likely to be open to my mother’s machinations.” She takes another sip of water.

  
  


Emma leans forward, she’s gotta make Regina see that she can _do_ this. “I woke up Henry.” But she wonders if that was really her at all, because she saved Henry after she gave up. The curse broke, but she did not break the curse; it only broke when all hope was lost. Victory shouldn’t be won after surrender.

  
  


“We don’t share true love dear, believe me.”

  
  


Emma will not think about how Regina’s pretty, that would be inappropriate right now. She takes a while to answer and Regina begins to look at her incredulously, so she replies quickly. “Well, yeah, we don’t. But I’m the child of true love right?”

  
  


Regina actually does sneer. “So what, you think you have magic kisses?”

  
  


“Right, okay, fine.” Emma rolls her eyes, but doesn’t take it personally, she _knows_ Regina gets mean when she’s upset, and she has every reason to be. “Mock me. But I want to help you, because you shouldn’t have to do this alone. But I can’t help you by myself, I need help to help you.”

  
  


“What are you suggesting?”

  
  


“Archie.”

  
  


Regina stares at Emma like she’s suggested she get therapy from Leroy at the Rabbit Hole, and not from the town’s psychiatrist. “He got his degrees from a curse.”

  
  


Emma nods in concession but plows on. “Okay, but so what? The curse gave Snow teaching skills, and Mary Margaret was a great teacher.”

  
  


“Debatable.” Regina takes another swallow.

  
  


“Fine.” Emma will not get into the topic of Snow with Regina. “But Whale learned how to use modern technology from the curse and hasn’t killed anyone in 28 years.” She won’t bring up the fact that the stranger who crashed into the town line died on the operating table before they could even get a name, and she basically had to destroy the GPS in his phone so no one would come looking for him in a town that doesn’t exist. “And all the nuns know their psalms, probably, and since the time spell has been cast, all the townspeople know exactly how to drive around the stupid trees in the road.”

  
  


“You mean you haven’t learned how to navigate them yet? You’ve been here almost a year.”

  
  


Emma absolutely will not comment, she’s pretty sure Regina hasn’t left the mansion in days, so there’s absolutely no way she could know about the trees all over the road, and now is not the time. “What I’m trying to say is, yeah Archie got his degree from a curse, but he also got however old he is years of experience from it too. So he might be able to help.”

  
  


“Archie betrayed my trust. And why, for that matter should I trust you?” Regina looks at her, not with anger or judgment, but curiosity, as though she really does want Emma to prove she’s trustworthy.

  
  


And Emma realizes that while they shared some kind of heart-to-heart about the absolutely shit men they knew, she still doesn’t really trust Regina with anything more than Henry’s safety, and even that is a tenuous trust, and Regina doesn’t have a reason to trust her, especially after she believed a dalmation’s memory over Regina’s own words. Regina’s had her trust broken constantly. And…Emma thinks of the fact that it’s Snow fucking around in the timeline. Before she can change her mind and decide to keep quiet, Emma blurts out. “Snow told Cora about Daniel.”

  
  


Regina just looks confused and shakes her head. “No, she didn’t. My mother found out on her own. And she killed him because I…I’m not…worthy of—”

  
  


Emma stops her. “No, she didn’t just find out on her own. Snow told Cora about Daniel. And you used to know that, but this time around, I guess Snow didn’t tell you.”

  
  


“I loathe your mother!” Regina snarls thought clenched her teeth. “That’s probably what screwed up the timeline, _that’s_ why my mother’s still around.” Trust Snow to spill all secrets she’d ever been told, make a mistake and ruin lives, but if she even had the chance to make good on her mistakes, or at the very least own up to them, she’d ignore it in her belief of her own goodness. “I suppose you think this should make me trust you?”

  
  


Emma sighs and rubs her hand through her hair, this is exhausting because Regina doesn’t trust anyone and for good reason, but Emma has to get Regina to trust her on this, even just this once, because Henry’s right, Regina is a person, and right now she needs help, and this isn’t just something she should have to do alone. But how can she make Regina see—

  
  


“Mom, I think you should let Emma kiss you.” Henry pops out from behind the couch, scaring his moms.

  
  


Emma bolts up, a hand to her rapidly beating chest. “Kid! What are you doing out of the apartment? You know Cora’s skulking around.”

  
  


“Archie drove me here.” He lies. Emma’s eyes narrow and she takes a step in front of Regina. She spots the lie, but she’s not sure if Henry’s lying, or if it’s Cora pretending to be Henry and lying.

  
  


Regina stares at him in suspicion and carefully veiled fear, if her mother has the power to impersonate Henry, then she’s recovered from the time spell’s affects, and Regina is not ready to deal with her. She flexes her fist and she asks him stiffly. “Where and when and how did Henry lose his first tooth, and where do I keep it?”

  
  


Henry stops. After a moment he recognizes the security question for what it is, and also the fact that his moms are getting tense, so he nods and answers quickly. “We were at the old castle, and I was five and three quarters, and I jumped off the monkey bars. You don’t have it because it got lost, and we looked for an hour, and I was upset because I thought the tooth fairy wouldn’t come, and you told me,” He pauses and smiles, and Regina relaxes, because this is Henry’s smile, not her mother’s pretending to be Henry smile. “That the tooth fairy doesn’t really come for teeth, that’s a myth. You said she came to count the spaces in my mouth, so she’d know how much money to leave in place of my tooth, because tooth fairies have teeth made of quarters. So I didn’t really need my tooth, only the space where it wasn’t.” He grins at her, and she opens her arms. He sits between the women and hugs his mom tightly. “Mom, that story makes no sense,” he mumbles into her chest.

  
  


She sighs into the top of his head then pulls back to kiss his cheek. “Well I had to tell you something. You wouldn’t stop sobbing, absolutely refused to leave the park and had blood all over your shirt.” Emma looks on at their reunion, and wishes she’d had either side of that relationship, wishes she’d had a mother to soothe her fears about growing up and losing teeth, and wishes she could have been there to tell Henry the stories he remembers fondly.

  
  


Henry pulls away. “Mom, I think Emma should kiss you.”

  
  


Emma flushes and Regina’s eyes widen, he doesn’t know what he’s asking. “Henry, you don’t understand—”

  
  


“Look, Kid, here’s the thing—”

  
  


“You don’t have to kiss her for real, just…sorta kiss her.” Henry holds up his hands to stop their protests.

  
  


Regina raises her eyebrows as Emma frowns. “What do you mean, sorta?”

  
  


“Like this.” He kisses his palm, then places it firmly on Regina’s cheek. He pulls back, but then stretches and purses his lips. Regina, realizing what he wants, smiles and leans down so he can reach her face. She’s reminded of the days when he was smaller and would follow her everywhere, begging hugs and kisses she was only too happy to give.

  
  


Emma blinks. “Oh.” She glances at Regina over Henry’s head. “Would you be…okay with that?”

  
  


Regina sighs. “I suppose it’s worth a try. You won’t be able to say the memory spell I had in mind, but perhaps if you just focus on the effect you want it to have…”

  
  


“Okay.” Emma nods. “So…I want that you don’t have to remember any of what Snow is changing.”

  
  


“Yes.” Regina pauses thoughtfully. “But I will need to know what Snow’s changing so that I can prepare for any major changes she might make to the timeline.” She needs to know if Snow rights the timeline and her mother gets her powers back, as long as this lasts, she’ll need to be vigilant.

  
  


“So maybe just that you can access the new memories if you want, but they won’t…attack you?”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


Emma cocks her head at Regina and chooses her words carefully, mindful of Henry’s presence. “Okay…so…are you remembering anything now?”

  
  


Regina begins to shake her head, but then glances at Henry. “I’m having tea with my parents. My mother is telling me how my hair should be fixed for the ball the king is throwing in honor of our marriage.” She looks at Emma. “We’ll be married tomorrow.”

  
  


“Then this had better work.”

  
  


Regina looks tentative and fearful “I suppose it better.” She positions herself facing Emma, looking her directly in the eyes. Henry grabs his mother’s hand and squeezes. “Now, think clearly, and focus on what you intend for this…kiss to do. Think hard. Don’t lose focus.” She stares hard at Emma. “I’m trusting you. Don’t…don’t mess with my memories.” The unspoken words here are: _please please don’t be like your mother_.

  
  


Emma gulps. She stares hard at her hand for a moment, before pressing her lips to it. She looks at her palm and startles at the faint glittering outline of her lips. Palm out, she shows it to Regina, who nods. Regina closes her eyes as Emma presses her hand to Regina’s cheek. Regina shimmers for a few seconds, as Henry and Emma look on in awe. She opens her eyes.

  
  


“Did it work?” Henry asks.

  
  


Regina closes her eyes again, sighing in relief. “Yes,” she says, and wraps her arm around Henry, giving him a squeeze. She looks at Emma.

  
  


“Thank you, Emma.”

  
  


Emma smiles and scratches the back of her head. “Uh, yeah.” She changes the subject quickly. “So what’s for dinner?”

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


Late that evening, in the great hall, lit with candles and hung with banners, Regina sat to the left of King Leopold, with her mother on her right as they all watched the traveling magician who did his tricks with flair. The steward had hired him as entertainment for the ball, and he made small tornadoes fly up and spin around the room, splashing some of the lower nobles and servants with wine. Snow did not remember seeing this magician decades before in her first childhood. She was positive the entertainment at the wedding ball had been a particularly uncouth court jester. But then again, she hadn’t remembered Cora being around at the time either. The king laughed uproariously as the magician sprayed a noble he was not particularly fond of. The magician looked at the king, amusement in his eyes.

  
  


“Your majesty, if I may summon someone from your royal table and have them assist me? Perhaps your lovely new bride?” Leopold nodded and smiled. Regina got up and walked to the magician with trepidation. Her mother was watching her closely, so she could not trip over the skirts of her gown, or move too quickly, or be anything but graceful and perfect. The magician took her hands, and suddenly small tornadoes formed. Regina stood stiffly, eyes fearful of the magic in her hands as the nobles gasped in amazement. “See your majesty? Your lovely new bride can work wonders!” Leopold clapped.

  
  


Suddenly, with a flick of his wrist, the tornadoes in Regina’s hands sprayed into her face. She dripped wine, and her hair began to curl. The court was silent.

  
  


King Leopold started to laugh, the nobles quickly joining in. Snow stared at Regina with pity as she looked down in humiliation. Cora’s eyes widened in rage and she seemed ready to tear Regina from the stage.

  
  


Regina’s nostrils flared and she breathed in shuddering gasps. She looked down to hide the scowl on her lips and the angry tears forming in her eyes. The laughter of the court was not abating and she was seconds away from running from the room, decorum be damned, when she felt a surge of power rush down her arms.

  
  


Another tornado, bigger than the two before, flew into the air, catching the magician up in its turn. It swiftly deposited him on the floor with a hard thump before disappearing. The court was silent.

  
  


Snow saw a faint smile on Regina’s face, though she continued to stare at the ground.

  
  


The magician stood with a laugh, “And that concludes the entertainment for the evening!” Leopold smiled graciously as the court clapped. Regina was led out of the hall to be cleaned up. Cora stared after her daughter, her face unreadable. The magician bowed.

  
  


A faint golden green sheen flickered across his skin before disappearing.

  
  


 

 


	4. My own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: vomit, mentions of marital rape, nightmares, triggers, murder,

“I mean—” Emma blushes furiously. “If you wouldn’t mind having me over for dinner?” Hopefully the kiss worked and will keep working, but she doesn’t want to leave Regina alone after…all that’s happened. She has to make sure Regina will be okay, at least for the rest of the night.

  
  


“Me too! Mom, can I stay?” Henry asks from beside her, looking up earnestly. He just wants to see his mom, talk to her, because she’s not okay, and he doesn’t really know what the kiss was _for_ , and he’s not sure if he should or if he wants to, but he wants to at least just be there.

  
  


Regina smiles softly. She’s not okay, but the memories aren’t attacking her, at least not now, and they can _fix_ this. “Yes, you can, Emma.” She looks at Henry and puts her hand on his shoulder. “And you’re always welcome here.” She pauses. There’s still vomit in the sink. “I was preparing dinner before…earlier, so I’ll just go clean—”

  
  


“Umm,” Emma interrupts. “I think, I can go…I’ll just go clean up the kitchen a bit.”

  
  


Regina’s eyes widen. “Emma, I was about to—”

  
  


“No, it’s fine, I’ve got this.” She stands quickly. It’s going to be gross, really gross, but…Regina doesn’t look completely okay, and she definitely probably isn’t, and Emma can see drying tear tracks on her cheeks, and Henry’s sitting so close to Regina, and she doesn’t know the last time they really _talked_ to each other, and Regina needs Henry and Henry needs Regina, and she can do this for them. “Just stay with Henry, I’ll call you guys when I’m done.” She walks from the room and pulls the collar of her shirt over her nose. She takes a deep breath.

  
  


Henry watches his mom, who’s staring absently off into space. He feels like he should apologize, for not believing her, not trusting her, even though he knows why he didn’t. But there’s a gulf in his chest, and maybe apologizing will make it better, maybe fixing things with her will make it not so bad. “Mom, I’m sorry.”

  
  


Regina blinks at him, then tilts her head, confused but still smiling. “What do you have to be sorry for?”

  
  


He bites his lip and furrows his brow, because he doesn’t know all he wants to say, because admitting guilt is hard, because he loves her, and forgives her, but it’s not like she hasn’t hurt him, and this is _hard_. And he wants to say: I’m sorry for thinking it would be okay if you were gone, I’m sorry for not talking to you more at the diner, I’m sorry for pushing you away, I’m sorry for thinking maybe you weren’t so important to me, I’m sorry, _I’m sorry_. But it’s so much to say, and not enough at all, because when he was six he broke her favorite mug, and there’s a list of things to apologize for, and he just wants them to be _okay_. He starts from the last of the things he’s done that twist him up inside. “I’m sorry for believing you killed Archie.” It hurts to say, because part of him still knows his hurt was _real_. But his mom’s hurting and even if Emma says it’s not his fault, part of if maybe still _is_ , and maybe if he apologizes, she’ll feel better. “I…I should have known—”

  
  


“Henry.” She places a hand on his shoulder, and looks at him, directly in his eyes. “It’s okay, that you believed I killed Archie.” She laughs shortly, bitterly. “My mother made it seem very much like I did. And…Henry…you’re my son.”

  
  


“Yeah, but—”

  
  


“Sweetheart.” She leans in closer to him, and cups her hand around his chin. “Sometimes…people make mistakes. I’ve made plenty. And…it’s okay, that you believed what you were told. I haven’t made it easy for you to trust me lately. There’s a lot of things I’ve done that have hurt you. And _I’m_ sorry.” She smiles and her eyes crinkle at the corners, tears squeezing out, and he’s crying and she’s crying but it feels like the ache in his chest is fading. She wipes the tears from his cheeks. “You’re my son. And I will always forgive you, because when I adopted you, I wanted all of you, not just the happy moments. I wanted every tantrum, every disagreement, everything you can throw at me. Henry.” She speaks softly, but her words have weight. “I love you, very very much. I am an adult. You are my child. I may be upset at you sometimes, and you have every right to be angry with me. But I love you, and no matter what, that’s never going to change.” He sniffles and nods, and she pulls him into her chest. Part of him stills feels like she _shouldn’t_ just forgive him for everything, for anything he does, because what if, what _if_. But it seems she always will, no matter what.

  
  


“I love you too,” he mumbles, and he feels a little lighter, a little freer, because it was easy to say, and he knows it’s true, won’t question it at all.

  
  


He wants to blow his nose, but he’s not a little kid anymore, and he won’t blow his nose into her shirt, she’ll just tell him it’s okay that he did, but he doesn’t have to, so he won’t. Her lips press into the top of his head. He pulls back and gives her a watery smile as she strokes his cheek.

  
  


He blows his nose on his sleeve instead.

  
  


“ _Henry!_ ” Regina scolds him, scandalized.

  
  


He grins.

  
  


<>

  
  


Emma’s cleaned the sink. The kitchen still smells a bit off, she sprayed it with Febreeze she found under the sink, but the vague stench of vomit remains, no one is fooled. Henry can’t help wrinkling his nose when they first step inside. He glances at his mom, who’s staring straight ahead, face blank. “What’s for dinner?” he asks, schooling his face.

  
  


Regina looks down at him, blinking, and Emma smiles faintly. “Well, I was making spaghetti…”

  
  


“With meatballs? And garlic bread?”

  
  


She smiles. “Yes.”

  
  


“I wanna help.” He goes to the cupboard and reaches for the box of noodles, but he’s too short and only manages to push it farther back inside.

  
  


“Here, kid.” Emma pulls the box down for him and he grins.

  
  


Regina watches them from the doorway, still smiling. “Alright,” she puts her hands on her hips. “I’ll chop the tomatoes, Henry, you get out the bread, and Emma, you—”

  
  


“Wait,” Emma interrupts her. “Tomatoes? Don’t you have jar sauce?”

  
  


Henry and Regina give her twin withering looks. “Emma,” Henry says, and she swears he’s mostly Regina’s kid, he looks like her but that snooty tone is all Regina. “We _make_ our sauce.”

  
  


“Okay, okay,” she holds up her hands in surrender. “What should I do?”

  
  


“Why don’t you boil some water?” Emma rolls her eyes, but begins rummaging through the cabinets, looking for a pot. Regina gets some ground beef from the freezer and sets it on the counter to defrost. She glances at Emma, who still hasn’t found the proper pot.

  
  


“It’s in the—”

  
  


“They’re in that cabinet over there.” Henry says and points. He shares a smile with Regina, who’s relieved to find that despite time away, he does still know his home.

  
  


She looks around as they both get to work. It’s…domestic, strangely so. She jumps as Emma manages to cause a ruckus, yanking out the proper sized pot. Emma smiles at her sheepishly. She nods and walks to the counter, picking up a knife. The company isn’t unwelcome, even if Emma is a bit coarse.

  
  


Regina stops chopping and puts the knife down, heading back over to the fridge. She opens the crisper and pulls out two heads of broccoli. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten vegetables, young man.”

  
  


Behind her, Emma and Henry groan.

  
  


The stench in the kitchen fades quickly, overtaken by the smell of garlic bread and pasta sauce.

  
  


<>

  
  


They sit down to dinner an hour later. Emma’s sure that if Regina and Henry would just get off their high horses and buy jar sauce and frozen meatballs, they could have been eating already, but she keeps quiet. Cooking together was nice, even if most of the conversation was just about what Henry’s learning in school. They can’t really discuss anything that’s happened in front of the kid anyway.

  
  


Henry’s placing the plates on the dining room table, Regina’s carefully carrying in the food, and Emma’s grabbing their _actual_ _silver_ ware, when her phone rings. She smiles apologetically. “Hold on.”

  
  


She answers to a frantic Archie. “Wait, slow down Archie,” she pauses. “He did what?” she stares at Henry, who has the decency to look ashamed. “No, it’s fine. He’s here with us,” Regina looks at her quizzically, and Emma shakes her head. “Yeah, thanks. Bye,” she hangs up her phone and places the silverware on the table. “Henry.”

  
  


He looks up from setting the table, and looks at her innocently. “Yeah, Emma?”

  
  


She’s not at all fooled by him. “That was Archie. He said he woke up and you were gone.”

  
  


He looks down. “Yeah…”

  
  


“I thought he gave you a ride?” Regina stares at him.

  
  


Henry looks back and forth between his moms. There’s no way he’s getting out of this. “Well, he really didn’t give me a ride. Ruby gave me one.”

  
  


“You called Ruby to pick you up and take you here?” Emma can’t believe this kid, he can’t just use the deputies as his personal taxi service, just because she’s the sheriff and Regina’s the former mayor.

  
  


He bites his lip and fidgets with the place settings. “Not exactly.”

  
  


“What do you mean, not exactly?” Regina is staring a hole through his head and he can’t help but squirm under her gaze.

  
  


“I sorta just walked until someone found me.”

  
  


“What?” Regina yelps. “Henry, you can’t run around town in the middle of the night!”

  
  


“I didn’t run, I walked.” Noting his mother’s stares, he figures being smart won’t get him out of trouble. “And I knew someone would find me. Besides I have the protection spell.” It’s not like he didn’t think through his decision to go see his mom, he had a plan, and it worked out.

  
  


“Kid, you can’t just expect someone to pick you up!” Emma groans, even if no one had picked him up, it’s still entirely too entitled of Henry to think they would, and then think whoever did wouldn’t have anything better to do than ferry him around town.

  
  


Regina puts a hand on his shoulder. “Henry, that protection spell is to protect you from being hurt, it’s not there so you can put yourself in danger.”

  
  


He frowns and looks up at her. “I wasn’t in any danger! I had the protection spell.”

  
  


Emma sighs. She doesn’t know if he really thinks what he did was okay, or if he’s being this dense on purpose. “Look—”

  
  


The doorbell rings.

  
  


Regina looks at Emma, who nods her head. “I’ve got this,” she says. Regina lets go of Henry’s shoulder and leaves the kitchen. She knows Emma will admonish him for what he’s done, she only hopes that she’ll make him understand _why_ he shouldn’t have.

  
  


“We’re not finished, Henry. Do you know what insubordination means?” she calls behind her.

  
  


“It means I’m grounded,” he mumbles.

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina answers the door to find a tall black woman. Her plump dark lips are pulled thin in a smile, hair in twists, eyes dark and intelligent. She holds out a hand. “I’m Dioba Konate.” Regina shakes her hand.

  
  


“Regina Mills.”

  
  


Dioba raises an eyebrows and smiles wider, showing her teeth. “I do know who you are. Twenty-eight years with you reigning over the town, I think I’d recognize the mayor.” Regina stiffens; this is not a night when she wants to deal with an angry mob. She glances around Dioba, keeping an eye out for any pitchforks or torches. Dioba notices and turns to look behind herself curiously. “What are you looking at?”

  
  


Regina relaxes, realizing that Dioba came alone. “Nothing,” she steps back from the door. “Won’t you come in?” Dioba nods and steps through the door.

  
  


“I don’t plan on staying long,” she says before Regina can offer her something to drink. “I just had some things I wanted to discuss with you.” Regina inclines her head. “I’m sure you know, that Storybrooke has its own group for non-white people within our community, called Our Stories.” Regina nods. “We have noticed that whenever we request more funding, we do receive it, without any irrelevant questions or conditions.” She smiles again. “Thank you.” Regina nods again, unsure of where this conversation is going. Dioba’s smile drops momentarily, and she takes a small nervous breath. “Since the curse broke, some of us have wondered…if perhaps…you felt…” She sighs and takes another breath, changing tacks. “I’m Mary Margaret’s substitute teacher, and earlier today, I noticed Henry was speaking Spanish. I asked the sheriff, if she knew where he learned it, and she implied it must have been from you.”

  
  


“Yes.” Regina says, the realization of what Dioba is hesitant to ask dawning on her.

  
  


“I began to think, after class, and this is something I’ve wondered since our…abundant funding, that perhaps, in the old world, you might have been from Ataecina or Dovelico. And Dovelico would have broken the treaty with Galabond, if its king were to marry a younger noble, as King Leopold did. So…you might not have originally been from Dovelico, and there were rumors of an exiled Ataecinian prince—”

  
  


Regina cuts her off. “We changed our last name after we fled Ataecina.” Dioba smiles in relief, happy that she was right and won’t have to continue to skirt around her question, she did _not_ want to have to deny the former queen access to the group. “My reasons for not joining O.S. were and remain my own.” Regina will not explain why she felt she could not expose her roots, what it had done to her to live for years as the queen whose origins no one would speak, until even the question had been forgotten, what if felt like to know her home kingdom had to remain a secret, painfully aware of what it would mean for Ataecina if it became known that the fearsome Evil Queen that terrorized the enchanted forest was born in their king’s castle. From Dioba’s calm gaze, she thinks she doesn’t have to.

  
  


“Well, you’re welcome to join us. We meet Tuesdays at the rec center, at eight.” Regina nods, though she’s not sure if she’ll go. “That, however, is not the only reason I came here tonight. I would also like to discuss the time spell. I feel I have skills that would benefit you. I was an emissary from Jata, and was in Renart, when the curse hit.” She holds up a hand, as Regina opens her mouth. “I’m not here to talk about the effects the dark curse had on my life. I _am_ here to offer my translating skills, in breaking our current enchantment, as I am fluent in many languages of the old world, ancient and otherwise.”

  
  


“That would be helpful.” Regina’s thankful that tonight, at the very least, she won’t be made to face the people who got caught up in the curse, who were not her direct enemies at the time. She points to the dining room. “Would you like to stay for dinner? We could discuss the time spell?”

  
  


“No.” Dioba says simply. “I wouldn’t.” Regina’s heart seizes in her chest, Dioba seems nice, if reserved, which is understandable as Regina’s reserved herself, but now she’s wondering if this visit was purely political, purely practical, if Dioba just wants the former ruler of Storybrooke and caster of both the dark curse and time spell on her side. Dioba pauses on her way to the door. “I have a son, Diarra, about the same age as yours. Perhaps, when I come to discuss the time spell, I could bring him with me.” Dioba smiles, Regina relaxes and smiles back.

  
  


“I’m sure Henry would love to make a new friend.”

  
  


Dioba nods again. “We’ll set up a time. Good night,” she leaves, closing the door behind her.

  
  


Regina locks it before heading back to the dining room, hoping Emma and Henry haven’t eaten all the food.

  
  


<>

  
  


Henry is nodding off over his plate when they’ve finally finished eating, exhausted by the events of the day. His face almost lands in his sauce-covered plate before he jerks back just in time. Emma snickers.

  
  


“Mom?” he asks drowsily. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

  
  


Regina glances at Emma, who holds up her hands, gesturing that she won’t oppose, that Regina doesn’t have to fight her on it. “Of course you can, Henry. Your room is just like you left it.” This isn’t true, it’s empty of most of his clothes, at least the ones that fit, and his favorite blanket is at the apartment, but the room is still his.

  
  


He stands quickly and stumbles from the room, yawning. Regina and Emma watch him go, before a look of realization comes over Emma’s face.

  
  


“Dammit,” she curses.

  
  


Regina turns to look at her. “What is it?”

  
  


Emma smiles sheepishly. “His punishment for sneaking out was to do the dishes for a month. By hand. Looks like he managed to get out of it already.”

  
  


“Clever boy.” Regina looks at the stairs again and sighs. “It’s best to let him sleep. We-I’ll just wash them off tonight for him to do in the morning, and add an extra day to the end of the month.”

  
  


“Yeah.”

  
  


They sit in an awkward silence for a few minutes. Both know there’s a conversation to be had, one they couldn’t have while Henry was around, but neither wants to bring it up.

  
  


“So.” Emma stretches. “I guess you’re gonna go to sleep.”

  
  


Regina sits very still. “No. I’m going to work on the time spell,” she’s still wary about sleep, she hasn’t slept in days, and it should be fine now, but she’s still cautious.

  
  


Emma nods. She hasn’t slept in days, but she’ll stay awake with Regina, if it helps. “What are we going to work on?” she asks as nonchalantly as she can, trying to act like she hasn’t just invited herself to spend the night.

  
  


Regina raises an eyebrow. “I suppose _we_ should continue reading over some of the texts in my study,” she gets out of her chair and begins to collect the dishware from the table. Emma rushes to help her, and together they carry them into the kitchen. Emma stands aside awkwardly, as Regina washes the residue from the dishes. She fidgets and glances around the kitchen until Regina is done.

  
  


They walk quietly to the study together, where Regina points to the couch before crossing over to the desk to grab a notepad. “This is what I have so far. Read over it, and I’ll continue to translate.” She hands the notepad to Emma and sits down, opening a heavy looking book.

  
  


Emma glances down at the notepad. It’s written in plain English and Regina’s neat handwriting but…it looks like math, it looks like word problems. She can’t make heads or tails of any of it. She clears her throat and Regina looks up. “I…don’t really understand what’s happening here.” She shakes the notepad. “This makes no sense.”

  
  


Regina rolls her eyes but walks over to Emma taking the pad from her hand. She scans it quickly. “It’s additions to what I explained about the time spell the night I cast it.”

  
  


Emma grimaces, of course it’s _additions_ , and looks down at her hands. “Yeah, I don’t exactly remember anything you said…I didn’t even really understand what you were saying when you said it…because—”

  
  


“You were drunk.”

  
  


“Yeah.”

  
  


It’s either because Regina’s been pretty drunk herself lately, or she just doesn’t want to dig the knife in deeper, but she doesn’t comment anymore about Emma’s condition the night in the graveyard.

  
  


“Well, I have plenty of time to teach you.” She sits on the couch opposite Emma. “About fourteen years.”

  
  


Emma’s head jerks up quickly. “What do you mean fourteen years? I thought we had forty?”

  
  


“The dark curse may bring some complications into the time spell, particularly if we don’t manage to break it before I cast the dark curse in the past. There are fourteen years between when I married and when I cast the dark curse originally.” Regina looks over her notepad again.

  
  


“What do you mean, complications?” Emma doesn’t think she can handle anymore weirdness.

  
  


“I haven’t translated enough to really know what will happen. As soon as you’re able to understand the very basics of what I know so far, I can go back to translating.” She looks at Emma. “Can you do this?”

  
  


Emma nods. “Yeah.”

  
  


“What I’ve figured so far,” Regina shifts and leans forward in her seat. “Is that anyone who was around Snow in the time when I was married has been affected by changing memories. As far as I know, it’s only my mother and myself, but there may very well be others in town affected. It’s likely that as Snow moves forward in the past and interacts with more people that are here in town, like Ms. Lucas, Archie, and your father, their memories will begin to be affected as well. If the dark curse weren’t a factor, this would continue up until she slots herself back into the time when the spell was cast. However, because of the dark curse, something else entirely different is likely to happen, I just don’t know what,” she sighs. “What I’ve translated so far, mostly relates to what will happen here in Storybrooke, during those fourteen years,” she hands the pad back to Emma.

  
  


“So, what do you want me to do?” Emma asks.

  
  


“I do believe you have the ability to postulate from there, based on the changes you’ve seen around town,” Regina looks at her strangely. “You mentioned earlier that there weren’t always trees in the roads. From what I remember, they’ve always been there. It’s likely an effect of the time spell. I need you to think of anything else that has changed, and try to find some kind of correlation in my notes.”

  
  


“Wait, so what happens to the outside world while we’re stuck in time?”

  
  


Regina stares at her. “The outside world is frozen in time, nothing is going to happen to it.”

  
  


“How…?” Emma shivers. “You can’t mean the _entire world_.”

  
  


“I do.”

  
  


“Wait, so you knew that was going to happen when you cast the time spell originally?” Emma glowers at her, the time spell turned out to be a mistake, but it was never supposed to be one on a _global_ level.

  
  


“Yes,” Regina smiles at her. “I did. Didn’t I mention?”

  
  


“No, you didn’t,” Emma groans in frustration, but honestly isn’t that surprised, Regina _would_ stop time for one fucking thing. “How the hell did you even pull that off?”

  
  


“Well, the combination of _our_ magic was enough to stop time. You’re the child of true love, and I’m… _very_ powerful.”

  
  


“Wouldn’t we be…tired or something? I thought you said there would be a drain on our magic? Wasn’t that the price of the spell?”

  
  


Regina raises her eyebrows. “Do you remember feeling tired, afterwards?”

  
  


“Not really.”

  
  


“That is because the curse didn’t take the price originally offered. The price was the next forty years instead.”

  
  


The reality of what they’ve done hits Emma. They’ve frozen time. For possibly the next forty years. All over the world. “Oh. Oh… _fuck,_ ” she whispers.

  
  


“Yes.” Regina gets off the couch for a moment and takes the book from her desk, before sitting back down again. “Are you going to be able to do this?”

  
  


Emma looks down at the notepad. She can do this, _has_ to do this. “Yeah,” she says. Regina nods and goes back to reading her book intently.

  
  


At some point late in the night, Regina falls asleep on the couch. Emma considers waking her, but Regina’s face is peaceful, and her breathing is even. She resolves to wake Regina up only if she starts looking like she’s having a nightmare. But eventually Emma falls asleep as well, two days is a long time to spend wide awake and freaking out.

  
  


<>

  
  


Henry wakes up the next morning to a quiet house. He wanders through the rooms, looking for his moms, until he eventually finds them in the study, sleeping on couches opposite each other. Emma is sitting up, drool spilling from her open mouth, a pad of paper in her hand, while Regina is curled around a thick book, snoring softly. He grins and leaves the room.

  
  


After calling David to ask to be taken to school— he doesn’t want to be grounded for another month for going out on his own—he goes back into the study to wake up Emma. Someone has to know he’s leaving, and his mom looks like she really needs the sleep.

  
  


“Emma,” he whispers and nudges her shoulder.

  
  


“Mmm,” she mumbles, and he screws up his nose and moves away. Her morning breath is absolutely awful.

  
  


“Emma!” he calls a little louder. “David’s coming to pick me up for school.”

  
  


She cracks an eye and looks at him drowsily. “Okay,” she mutters and sits up fully, cracking her neck. Henry winces. She opens her eyes fully, and looks at him. “I’ll come pick you up after?”

  
  


“Yeah,” he says, turning to leave.

  
  


“Henry,” Regina calls from the couch where she’s still curled up, eyes closed.

  
  


“Yes?”

  
  


“Do the dishes before you leave.”

  
  


Henry’s eyes bug out. “You left them there all night?”

  
  


Regina smiles, though her eyes stay closed. “Just for you.”

  
  


“But David’s coming.” Doing the dishes sucks enough without having to scrape off stuff that’s been left drying all night.

  
  


“You have time. There’s money for lunch in the…” she trails off.

  
  


“I know, I know,” he groans and stomps out of the room, before turning around and quickly walking back in. He leans down and kisses Regina’s cheek. “Bye Mom.” He walks to the other couch and hesitates as Emma looks at him. She gives him a small smile and turns her head to the side. He grins and kisses her. “Bye…Ma.” He leaves the room.

  
  


Emma watches him go before looking over at Regina, who has fallen back asleep. She smiles before laying down on the couch. They have work to do, but they can get to it later. She closes her eyes and within minutes, she’s out cold.

  
  


<>

  
  


Around noon, after another few hours of sleep, Emma and Regina pull up outside of Gold’s shop in the Mercedes. Regina shuts off the engine and opens her door just as Emma slides down in the passenger seat. Regina turns to her, head tilted. “What are you doing?”

  
  


Emma peers out her window at the pawn shop. “I kinda owe Gold a favor, and I don’t wanna have to pay it back, on top of everything else.”

  
  


“I suppose you expect me to talk to him alone?”

  
  


“Could you?”

  
  


Regina rolls her eyes, but sees the pronounced bags under Emma’s, so she steps out of the car, closing the door behind her. Emma sighs in relief and slouches down farther in her seat, so only her hair is showing through the window.

  
  


The bell on the shop door jingles as Regina enters. She stalks to the counter where Gold is tinkering with a teapot.

  
  


“We need to talk,” he glances up and gives her a sickly smile.

  
  


“Do we, dearie? I can’t imagine what business I could possibly have with you.”

  
  


“The time spell—”

  
  


He grins and stops his tinkering, moving to stand directly in front of her, leaning on the counter. “Oh, I know all about your mishap. And I’ll have nothing to do with it.”

  
  


Regina starts in surprise. “The entire town is stuck in a time spell because Snow White is an eternal failure of a human being,” she leans over the counter. “I don’t remember meeting you for the first time anymore. Which means that I won’t cast the dark curse, so whatever sick plan you’ve got that depends on me casting it will fail.”

  
  


“That’s where you’re wrong, dearie,” he smirks. “You haven’t met me. But I have met you.”

  
  


She sneers. “You’re lying.”

  
  


“Am I?” he spins around and laughs and Regina steps back from the counter, unsettled. “You may choose to believe that, but I know I’m not. Besides, even if I were, I have no reason to help you.”

  
  


“I can restore Belle’s memory.” She’s lying, she can create new ones, but restoring those that were lost is something she hasn’t been able to do yet, not without knowing some of the finer details of the dark curse.

  
  


His eyes darken and he sneers. “As can I, given time, and I do believe time is something I’ll have in abundance these next few years.”

  
  


“So you won’t help me at all?” It’s been less than five minutes and she’s already tired of arguing with the imp.

  
  


“No,” he says and she turns around quickly, preparing to leave without saying good bye. “At least not from this end.”

  
  


She spins around. “What the hell does that mean?”

  
  


He laughs. “You’ll find out. By the way, is Ms. Swan outside? Perhaps hiding in your car?” Regina makes her face blank and cool.

  
  


“Why would I be working with the savior?”

  
  


Rumplestiltskin shrugs. “It doesn’t matter to me.” He leans over the counter, eyes glinting and Regina is reminded that though he looks human, his humanity was lost long ago. “I will find her, when I need her to fulfill her part of the bargain,” he laughs again, tapping his chin. “Yes, tell her that. Tell her: I will always find you.” Regina leaves, ignoring Rumplestiltskin’s laughter.

  
  


“How’d it go?” Emma asks.

  
  


“How do you think?” Regina grumbles and slams the car door behind her.

  
  


“I mean, Gold’s not our only option. We could ask the fairies.” Never before in her life has Emma ever thought she’d seriously suggest asking for help from fairies.

  
  


Regina rolls her eyes. “Most fairies are useless without fairy or pixie dust, and there’s no more of that in Storybrooke. The blue fairy is the only one who can work without it, and her skills are mostly in the realm of blessings,” she looks at Emma. “We don’t need a blessing,” she puts the car into gear and mutters. “We need a way to break this spell.”

  
  


Emma stays silent, noting Regina’s words with a vague sense of belonging. _We._

  
  


<>

  
  


The next night, Regina is woken from a dream of bloodstained sheets by Emma, spit drying on the corner of her mouth, a sad smile on her face. “You were thrashing,” she says, and Regina’s throat is hoarse, so she knows she was likely yelling as well, but if Emma’s not going to bring it up, she won’t either. “Do you need another…kiss?”

  
  


“No.” Regina sits up shaking her head. “It was just a dream.” The first kiss from Emma only took away her immediate memories, but the thoughts they birthed are still there. Everything she buried has risen; they come to her when she can’t keep herself focused on breaking the spell.

  
  


“Do you wanna talk about it?”

  
  


“No.”

  
  


Emma nods and moves back to sit on the opposite couch. “Maybe you should talk to Ar—”

  
  


“All I need, is to break the time spell.” Regina snaps. Just because she allowed Emma to use her magic on her, doesn’t mean she’s willing to trust Archie again. Even her trust in Emma is still tenuous, as she’s sure the only reason they’re able to work together is that Emma wants the time spell broken and Snow back. She clenches her teeth at the thought of Snow forcing these events on her again, attempting to avoid the blame. She sneers. If Emma pushes Archie on her one more time, suggests that she _knows_ what Regina needs, she _will_ kick her out.

  
  


“Alright.” Emma says. If Regina doesn’t want to talk to Archie, she won’t talk to Archie.

  
  


They sit in silence for a few moments, Regina staring at her hands, teeth firmly clenched. Emma looks around the room, focusing on the books on the shelves. “Are these all magic books?”

  
  


Regina looks up in surprise. “Yes, they are, now.”

  
  


“Now?”

  
  


“During the curse they were a variety of books on different subjects. They still are I suppose, though if you read some of them upside down they’re tomes on different magic.”

  
  


Emma stares at her. “What do you mean, different kinds of magic? Isn’t there just…magic?”

  
  


“Well,” Regina moves forward in her seat, willing to talk about her immense knowledge of magic. “For magic users like myself, and I suppose, potentially you, there are three different kinds of magic. There’s elemental magic, like this,” she holds out her hand, palm up, and conjures a ball of fire that casts shadows around the room. “It’s within me, but does have to be learned to be used,” she puts it out. “Then there’s casting magic, like the magic I used for the time spell and dark curse. That requires knowledge of languages and basic concepts. Both of these kinds of magic require the user to have some form of innate magic to cast.” Emma stares at her, listening intently. “The last kind of magic is usage of magical objects, which require a magical person to create them, but almost anyone can use them once they’re created. These would be things like enchanted lockets, like the one I gave your mother, cursed cups that turn wine to liquid fire, bows that always shoot true, and others. Potions and some magical creatures are also included in this category. Casting magic also has subsets. For instance,” she stands and walks to one of the bookshelves. “This tome on economic magic, which is also a book on tax law.”

  
  


Emma’s not even going to comment on economic magic; she can’t even grasp economic economics, never mind adding magic to it. “Wait,” she walks over to Regina and peers closely at the shelves. “So this book on…music theory’s actually a book about musical…casting magic?”

  
  


“Not exactly.” Regina strokes the spine and smiles. “It is a book about how to use musical magic, which is a combination of all three types. The instrument needs some form of enchantment, like the pipes of the pied piper, but the person using it must also know the correct notes to play, which involves casting magic, and must also have innate magical ability to play at all. Miss any one of the three components and the pipes are just pipes and the music they play will have no affect. But with all three…”

  
  


“So…what will I have to do to learn magic?”

  
  


“Would you like to?”

  
  


“Uh…yeah. How would I do it, I mean, is it like innate stuff, or will I have to learn languages, or what?”

  
  


“I suppose, as the child of true love, you’ll need all three.”

  
  


“What do you mean, ‘as the child of true love’?” There _can’t_ be another downside to all this savior-true-love-only-works-sometimes bullshit.

  
  


“Children of true love generally need an object to channel their magic, because there’s so much of it. Most can’t even teleport without one, and that’s the simplest form of magic there is. So you’ll need an enchanted object.” She looks at Emma shrewdly. “I’m _not_ going to do that for you, you’ll need casting magic to cast the proper enchantments on your object. And you’ll need to know how to channel your innate magic to even use it. You’ll need to know all three.” Regina smirks. “If you think you can do that.”

  
  


“Wait, I didn’t need any of that to fix your memories. I can do the kiss thing.” There _has_ to be some way to get out of that much learning, she has no fond memories of school.

  
  


“Suppose by some accident…there’s a chimera in town?”

  
  


Emma stares. “Why would there be a chimera in town, Regina, you didn’t bring any chimeras over here, did you?”

  
  


“It’s a hypothetical question,” Regina rolls her eyes. “Chimeras are from Panthea, and Princess Aurora is still in the old world, so there likely aren’t any in town. And my _point_ was that you wouldn’t want to have to kiss a chimera to defeat it. They’re…unpleasant.”

  
  


“Yeah. I know. They taste awful.” Regina stares at her. “So…all three types of magic…” Emma blows out a sharp gust of air. “Where do I start?”

  
  


Regina smiles and crosses to another shelf, carefully choosing a book. “This book on basic magical concepts will help.” She hands the book to Emma. “As well as this one on ancient Dwarven, they’re renowned for their enchanted objects, so you’ll need to be at least somewhat proficient to translate.” She places a heavier book on top of the one in Emma’s arms. “And this one is a history of Dwarven metal and gem work. It’s actually in ancient dwarven, but once you get the basics of the language down, you can translate in conjunction, it’s a simple language to learn.”

  
  


Emma’s shoulders are already starting to ache. She glances at the title of the topmost book. It reads ‘ **Arts and Crafts** ’ in thick block letters. She notices two words written underneath, upside down and in an elegant script, so she tilts her head to read them. Those say:

  
  


‘ _With Pickaxes’_

  
  


“Great.” Emma mumbles.

  
  


“You can start now, with the basic concepts, I can explain anything you’re confused about.” Emma nods and watches Regina grab another book, one marked, ‘ **Timekeeping in Nature: Watching the Sun** ’. Regina sits down at her desk and flips it upside down, and the script underneath is _completely_ incomprehensible. Emma sighs and puts the books on the desk, resigning herself to another night without sleep. She pulls the chair closer to the table and Regina glances at her before going back to her book. Emma opens the book on basic magical concepts, which is titled ‘ **MATH** ’. Within minutes she has a question.

  
  


“Why the hell do I have to know how to prove a triangle is a triangle for magic?”

  
  


“Turn it upside down.” Regina answers without looking up.

  
  


“Right.” Emma blushes and flips the book. They read until the sun comes up.

  
  


<>

  
  


It’s been three days of daily visiting back to the apartment for clothing and passing out on the couches in Regina’s study after nights poured over translations of texts. Emma knows where Regina keeps the extra towels, which shampoos in Henry’s bathroom will make her smell like bubblegum, and that no matter what, the water will always turn cold ten minutes into her shower, because Regina likes to take up all the hot water in the morning. She knows where the big pot is kept, and how to take it out of the cabinet without making a ton of noise. And she knows that she’s getting tired of sleeping on the couch, that she doesn’t want to spend the next fourteen years waking up with a sore spine, she promised herself those days were over when she stopped sleeping in her car.

  
  


But it’s Henry who hears Emma’s yelp when the shower turns freezing, who notices when she smells like he did when he was six and insisted on smelling like candy, who sees her holding her back in the mornings after a night spent sleeping upright, so it’s Henry who brings up the topic of moving. He comes to Regina in the kitchen drinking her coffee, while Emma is rushing her shower in his bathroom.

  
  


“Mom?” he says. She looks up and smiles at him, easily.

  
  


“Yes, Henry?”

  
  


“Can I move back in?

  
  


“Of course!” Regina smiles. “You’re always welcome here.” She places a kiss on the top of his head and he grins. He’s too old for kisses, he knows that, and he won’t let _anyone_ kiss him where other people can see, but Emma’s kiss made his mom feel better, and maybe, a tiny bit of hope sparks in his chest, maybe his moms have true love too. And if it was true love that made her stop hurting, then if he lets her kiss him, and he kisses her all the time, then maybe she’ll stay okay. “What do you want for breakfast?” she asks.

  
  


“Pancakes.” Regina glances at the clock. He has enough time before school, so she nods and goes to the fridge for the eggs and milk. “Mom?”

  
  


“Mmm?”

  
  


He squirms, because even though he knows she wants him to move in, he’s not so sure she’ll be okay with Emma. “Can Emma come too?”

  
  


Regina pauses. Emma…has been a help to her, in ways that are difficult to fully admit. She’s willing to listen to Regina bounce spell-breaking ideas off of her, even though she has no idea what Regina’s talking about. She doesn’t push Regina to talk, but wakes her up when her dreams take her back to the times she crossed dimensions to escape. And she takes her shower after Regina and doesn’t complain that the water is always cold. But…moving in together is a big step, symbolic, and Regina doesn’t want it to become anything more, not while Emma holds the power to halt her most painful memories. She’s not willing to let Emma be her savior, she won’t owe someone like that. She glances at Henry, who’s scuffing his shoe on the floor.

  
  


She’s teaching Emma magic, something Emma will need to survive. Emma’s trusting her to put her on the right path, and…perhaps in this, they can be on equal ground.

  
  


“She can have the guest room.” Regina tells Henry, who grins.

  
  


He hugs her. “Thanks, Mom!” She smiles.

  
  


“JESUS FU—” Emma shrieks in the shower as the water turns freezing.

  
  


Regina rolls her eyes. “And tell her to take her showers at night.”

  
  


Henry snickers.

  
  


<>

  
  


Emma’s stalking out of the bathroom, hair still soaking wet and a scowl on her face when Henry runs into her.

  
  


“Kid, slow down!” She pushes him back. “Where are you going?”

  
  


“Mom says you can move in!” Henry grins up at her expectantly.

  
  


“Hold on, who says I’m moving in?” She stares at him.

  
  


“You’re here everyday, and I told mom _I_ wanted to move in—

“Wait, you’re moving back in?”

  
  


“Yeah, mom said it was okay.”

  
  


“Kid, you have to ask me—” she stops herself. Regina is the mom, she can’t keep them separated. “Okay. So you’re moving back in, why do I have to?”

  
  


“Because, Emma,” Henry frowns. “You’re here everyday, and my mom needs you to kiss her or something, and if you have a bed you won’t have to sleep on the couch.”

  
  


“Kid,” she sighs, looking at his earnest face. She doesn’t want to be tied down, doesn’t want to say this is where she’ll be staying. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, I mean—”

  
  


“It’ll only be until the time spell is broken! Come on, you’re just gonna end up going back and forth to the apartment anyway,” he pleads.

  
  


She sighs. “Did you mom say it would be okay?” Henry nods vigorously. “And it would only be until the time spell is broken?” She promised Regina she wouldn’t have to go through it alone. Once it’s all over, she can move back into the apartment, they’ll figure out a custody thing for Henry, and she won’t be any more tied down than she was when she lived with her parents. It’s not like she’s actually u-hauling with Regina.

  
  


“Yeah, so…are you gonna move in?”

  
  


“Fine,” she rolls her eyes as Henry cheers. She has _got_ to find a way to get him to stop convincing her to do shit.

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


Her first night actually living at Regina’s house, Emma’s too tense and fidgety to concentrate on her ancient Dwarven. It’s not that the water in her shower still turned cold, because Henry takes even longer than Regina. It’s not that she’s embarrassed for eating three helpings at dinner, the food was good and licking the serving bowl was the best compliment she could give. It’s not even that her vibrator went off just as Regina offered to help them bring their things inside, and kept buzzing until she got a chance to lock herself in the guest room, _her_ room now, and turn it off.

  
  


It’s David, who only asked her if she was sure, if she could handle herself, before giving in and helping her and Henry pack. She feels awful for leaving him alone in the no-longer-cramped apartment. He didn’t even tell her that he knew Regina better, that she couldn’t be trusted. He just let them go. And now he’s all alone, and she’s realizing that the tense and fidgety feeling is guilt.

  
  


“Stop tapping your foot. It’s irritating.” Regina says, glaring from over her book.

  
  


“Sorry.” Emma stops tapping, but within minutes she’s picked up a pen and started clicking it.

  
  


“Is there some reason you’re channeling your inner seven year old?” Regina asks through gritted teeth.

  
  


“Sorry. Sorry.” She puts down the pen. Then starts drumming her fingers on the desk.

  
  


Regina slams her book closed. “Emma!”

  
  


“I’m sorry!”

  
  


“What is _wrong_ with you?”

  
  


What’s wrong with her is that she lost her mother, and she just ditched her father. What’s wrong with her is that even though she misses Snow, despite knowing how badly she fucked up, she knows David misses her worse. What’s wrong with her is that David let them go easily, too easily, not like he wouldn’t miss them, but like he’s given up on keeping them, keeping anyone he loves. What’s wrong with her is that after 28 years thinking she was abandoned, she _found_ her parents, and she’s just abandoned one of them. It’s all these things, but she doesn’t want to bring up Snow, doesn’t want to tell the person Snow’s hurting the most that she’s missed. So instead she shrugs. “It’s David.”

  
  


Regina sighs. “What about David?”

  
  


“I just…” Emma frowns. “He’s all alone in his apartment.”

  
  


“So?” Regina stares hard at her. “If Snow hadn’t—”

  
  


“Look,” Emma interrupts. “I know it’s Snow’s fault. But David didn’t do anything, and now…I just feel like…I abandoned him.”She expects an angry, snarky rebuttal. Instead Regina just looks at her, face blank. “I’m sorry, I’ll stop fidgeting.” Emma goes back to her book.

  
  


“The basement has a bathroom.”

  
  


Emma’s head shoots up. “What?”

  
  


“I said—” Regina rolls her eyes. “The basement has a bathroom.”

  
  


“Wait, so you mean he can stay here?”

  
  


Regina opens her book again.

  
  


“Will you stop making a nuisance of yourself?”

  
  


Emma grins. “Yes.”

  
  


“Then yes.”

  
  


<>

  
  


David agrees to move in almost immediately after Emma assures him that he can sleep and shower in the basement and will almost never actually have to cross paths with Regina. This turns out to be a lie because as soon as he steps in the front door, Regina appears with a can of air freshener.

  
  


“It smells like wet dog.” she says snidely.

  
  


David scoffs. “I do work with dogs, Regina. Some of us have jobs.”

  
  


“Well then, you’ll be happy to pay rent.”

  
  


“I will,” David says, almost petulantly.

  
  


“It’s fifteen hundred a month.”

  
  


David’s face turns chalk white. “I’ll pay it,” he says shakily.

  
  


“Your room is that way.” Regina points to the basement door. David stalks off, ignoring Regina, who sprays the air freshener behind him until he closes the door.

  
  


“Regina, that’s a lot for rent,” Emma mutters; she doesn’t think she can afford that on a sheriff’s salary.

  
  


Regina rolls her eyes. “I’m not going to make him pay it. I know _economics magic_.” She walks to the kitchen. “As long as the mayor’s position remains unfilled, and it will, I still get paid.”

  
  


“Isn’t that fraud? Doesn’t that make you a corrupt politician?” Emma asks, eyes bulging.

  
  


Regina shrugs. “As your father pointed out, I’m no longer in office. The town budget must remain in equilibrium.” She leaves Emma staring at her, open-mouthed in the hallway. “Tell him he showers last.”

  
  


<>

  
  


Three days later Dioba knocks on the front door, a little boy with dark brown skin and eyes the same, clutching at her dress. Emma answers, a piece of green pepper hanging out of her mouth.

  
  


“Oh! Hey, Dioba. What’s up?” Emma slouches against the doorjamb.

  
  


“I’m here to discuss the time spell with Regina. And,” She pulls the little boy out from behind her. “I brought my son, Diarra, to play with Henry.”

  
  


Emma smiles at him. It’s about time Henry gets some non-tax-paying friends. “Oh that’s cool. They’re here, hold on.” She turns around and yells into the house. “Henry! Regina! People are here to see you!”

  
  


They stand awkwardly, Emma absently munching on the pepper. Dioba raises an eyebrow. “Are you going to let us in?”

  
  


Emma jumps back from the door and holds it open. “Oh jeeze! Sorry, yeah.” Dioba pushes her son through the door, just as Regina comes stalking out of the kitchen.

  
  


“Is there any reason you couldn’t just come get me instead of attempting to burst my eardrums?”

  
  


“I had to greet ou-the guests. Dioba’s here to talk to you about the time spell, and she brought her son, Diarra.” Emma points to the little boy, who’s hidden behind his mother again.

  
  


“Oh. Hello, Dioba. We can talk in the study. And,” she bends over and smiles at Diarra. “I’m sure Henry will be down soon.”

  
  


“Yeah, I don’t know what’s taking him so long.” Emma turns and looks at the stairs. “Henry!” she yells again. “Come down!”

  
  


“I’m coming!” he yells back.

  
  


Regina frowns at Emma. “I swear, if you teach him anymore of your bad habits, heads will roll.” Diarra flinches and Regina regrets her word choice immediately. Although Henry and Emma don’t fear her, the rest of the town still does.

  
  


“Sorry.” Emma apologizes but rolls her eyes, it’s not like there are any other efficient ways to call someone in this giant house.

  
  


Henry comes stomping down the stairs, and Regina glowers at Emma, who smiles sheepishly.

  
  


“I’m here. What’s going on?” Henry recognizes Diarra, he’s one of the kids that’s too afraid to play with him because of who his mother is.

  
  


“Henry, this is Diarra. I want you to be kind to him, while his mother and I discuss the time spell.” Regina says.

  
  


Henry grins. “Okay.” He looks at Diarra. “So…what do you like to do?”

  
  


Diarra just stares.

  
  


“He likes videogames.” Dioba supplies.

  
  


Henry nods. “Umm, we have an X-box. Do you like black op—” He stops, his mom’s not supposed to know Emma bought him that game. “I mean, we have a Wii, do you wanna play Mario-Kart?”

  
  


“Oh, I don’t know abou—” Dioba starts.

  
  


“Yes.” Diarra finally speaks.

  
  


“Okay.” Henry smiles. “Come on, the den is this way.”

  
  


“I’ll be just in the study okay?” Dioba asks. Diarra just stares. “Okay.”

  
  


“It’s this way.” Regina begins to leave and motions for Dioba and Emma to follow, when Diarra grabs Dioba’s dress.

  
  


Dioba turns. “Diarra, I have to go to the study.” He shakes his head. “Diarra. You have until the count of—” Diarra motions for his mother to come closer. She bends down.

  
  


“Please don’t leave me alone in her house.” He whispers in her ear. She glances at Regina, who looks at her quizzically.

  
  


“Do you mind if we discuss this in the den with the boys? My son’s a bit shy.” She places a comforting hand on his shoulder.

  
  


Regina nods. “I gathered.” She glances at Emma, who shrugs. “It’s fine.”

  
  


They walk to the den, Diarra still holding tight to his mother’s dress. Henry grabs the remote and turns on the TV, as Diarra flops onto one of the couches, watching his mother out of the corner of his eye.

  
  


“You can have player one if you want.” Henry offers.

  
  


“What have you found out about the time spell so far?” Dioba asks sitting down on one of the couches on the far end of the room, glancing at her son, who’s currently choosing to play as Waluigi. She sighs internally, knowing this won’t end well.

  
  


Regina sits on the loveseat across from Dioba and Emma plops down beside her. “We’ve figured out why there are trees in the road.”

  
  


“Haven’t there always been trees there?” Dioba asks, tugging her chin.

  
  


“Emma swears they weren’t there before the time spell was cast. We’ve also managed to figure out that more people in town will start re-experiencing their memories—”

  
  


Dioba interrupts. “What do you mean ‘more’? And re-experiencing?”

  
  


Regina pauses. “I had some re-experiencing of memories past. I remembered…events because Snow acted in a way that made them happen differently.” Emma fidgets. “It seems Snow is changing the timeline.”

  
  


Dioba glances at her son, who’s biting his lip as he plays. “She’s changing the timeline? My son was born after the time when Snow went back. She can’t do something to…make him not exist, can she?”

  
  


“He probably won’t be affected, since she can only change things her younger self would have had access to.” Emma reassures her, having finally gotten the hang of what time travel actually means.

  
  


“Probably? When it comes to my son, probably isn’t good enough.” Dioba states firmly, eyes flashing. “What have you figured out besides that?”

  
  


Regina shifts uncomfortably. “The dark curse may also become a factor later on, though we’re not sure how, we haven’t translated that far yet.”

  
  


Dioba nods. “I believe my skills will be useful then. I’m proficient in over thirty languages, many of them used in casting. I can make this go faster.”

  
  


Emma stares. “Does that include ancient dwarven?”

  
  


“Emma, this isn’t the time, I told you it meant ‘to fling’.” Regina says, exasperated.

“Yes, why?” Dioba answers.

  
  


“There’s a part in my book, **Arts and Crafts** _with Pickaxes_ , that makes no sense. It looks like, ‘to flarg’ and there’s something about work water and…can you look at it for me?”

  
  


Dioba nods staring at Emma like she’s asked her to dance with a shark, not translate some ancient dwarven.

  
  


“If you insist on wasting time, at least get some drinks for the guests.” Regina relents.

  
  


Emma shrugs. “Sure.” She nods at Dioba. “What do you want?”

  
  


“Water will be fine.” She glances at Regina, who shakes her head.

  
  


“Okay.” Emma turns to the boys. “Hey, kid…kids. What do you want to drink?”

  
  


“Orange juice.” Henry says, not glancing away from the screen. “Diarra, you’re in last place, and you have a star, why are you just running into walls? I thought you said you were _good_ at this game.” He teases.

  
  


Diarra just grins. “Same, please,” he calls.

  
  


“Alright, I’ll be back.” Emma lopes out of the room, and Regina shakes her head in exasperation.

  
  


Dioba and Regina sit in silence, the sounds of Henry’s whoops and Diarra’s giggling in the background. “What did you do in the old world?” Regina finally asks.

  
  


“I was a noble emissary from Jata.” Dioba says, then pauses. “That’s actually how I got caught up in the dark curse.” Regina freezes but Dioba continues. “There was a fairy in Renart, we keep track of all of our descendants that are in the Enchanted Forest area. We got word, from a minor fairy no less, not even the Rheul Gorm, that she was killed, almost a year after the fact. She was on her first mission as a fairy godmother to…Cinderella I believe it was, when she was murdered. Of course, Rumplestiltskin was suspected, and I’ve talked to Ashley Hermann, it was him, he’s like the plague. But we did need to confirm, so I was sent with my husband, Balla—he runs the rec center—and Diarra, along with a witch strong enough to transport us and our escort if there was trouble. . However, the trouble we found wasn’t the trouble we were expecting to find.” She looks at Regina shrewdly. “We got caught up in the curse as well, though our escort and the witch were left behind.”

  
  


Regina purses her lips and nods. “You were not meant to get caught up in it,” she says softly.

  
  


“But we were.”

  
  


“What are you doing? That’s like cheating!” Henry yells from in front of the tv. Regina and Dioba stand and walk over to the couch, just as Emma enters with the drinks, handing one to Dioba.

  
  


Diarra’s Waluigi, previously in last place on a clustered course, slows down completely and lets loose with a blue shell, which knocks out all the racers ahead of him, including Henry. Waluigi rides across the finish line. “Ahh!” Diarra jumps and throws his hands up in the air, laughing. “I _told_ you I could play!”

  
  


“He always does this.” Dioba mutters. Regina laughs.

  
  


Henry folds his arms and leans back on the couch, pouting. He looks at the screen. “Next course?” He asks.

  
  


“Yeah. So I can trounce you again.” Diarra ribs him.

  
  


“Like you could. I know your game now.”

  
  


“Please, you know _one_ of my games.” Diarra sits back on the couch and goes to the next screen.

  
  


“Here, kids.” Emma says, handing them two juice boxes. She turns to Dioba and Regina. “I couldn’t find the book.”

  
  


“It was on my desk.”

  
  


“I’m telling you it’s not there.”

  
  


Dioba glances at the boys who are playing their next match, juice box straws firmly in their mouths. “Why don’t we just go and see? I can also take a look at some of the books that will help us with the time spell. Diarra, I’m going to the study now.”

  
  


“Kay, Mama,” Diarra answers absently, completely distracted by the game.

  
  


Emma and Dioba begin to leave the room, but Regina stops Dioba. “I apologize,” she says. “For getting you caught up in all of this.”

  
  


Dioba nods and looks fondly on Diarra and Henry, who are attempting to trash-talk each other.

  
  


“Oh yeah, well your game is so baaaad,…sheep…sheep won’t…”

  
  


“Sheep won’t what?”

  
  


Dioba says. “Things and people were lost, but they are my own.” She laughs bitterly. “Now I know why all my friends here are orphans.” She looks hard at Regina. “I wanted you to know it happened, that your vengeance wasn’t without collateral damage. But,” She waves her hands. “,it’s done. We need to fix the timeline.”

  
  


She nods at Regina and they leave their sons to their game.

  
  


<>

  
  


Later that night, Emma has finally been convinced that ‘to flarg’ is ‘to fling’ and that work water means sweat, and she resolves to just take Regina’s word on all translations, even when they make absolutely _no sense_ , why the fuck is she supposed to fling sweat at a roaring fire? But Regina’s going to be right on all things magic, she’s accepted that, and the best she can do is keep translating until it all makes sense.

  
  


The fire in the study crackles, and Emma is warm and things could be worse.

  
  


They could be worse, but they’re not all good because this is all just too simple. Regina’s let her move in, let _David_ move in, and she’s learning magic, and they’re not much closer to breaking the time spell, but they can do it, and this is . All she’s doing is waking Regina when she has nightmares, distracting her for the rest of the night, and that’s it, there’s no talking, She doesn’t know how to make the nightmares stop entirely, she doesn’t know how to pull Snow from the past and make her _stop_ , and she’s not helpful enough in breaking the time spell and she feels like she’s failing. All she can really do for Regina is to make sure the town knows that she’s good, knows that the time spell wasn’t her fault.

  
  


She knows Regina is angry at Snow, but there’s a difference between helping Regina overcome her problem and admitting that Snow is the source of the problem, has always been the source of Regina’s problems, and in her head she thinks, _but Snow was a kid_ , and this makes her feel awful, because Regina was a kid too. And she won’t go there, won’t go into those thoughts without Regina, won’t assume shit she doesn’t know. But she can’t blame Snow completely for everything and forget her own part in the time spell, can’t pretend like Regina’s never done anything wrong. Honestly she can’t even bring herself to hate Snow as much as Regina does, doesn’t think she ever will, because maybe when this is over she’ll have a mother again, and she can’t just give that up.

  
  


So she avoids mentioning Snow, doesn’t bring her up at all and just hopes to fix the time spell as soon as possible.

  
  


Regina works on her text, newly translated since Dioba’s visit. It isn’t as helpful as she had hoped, there are only small sections on the Infinite Forest, but she’s desperately hoping that whatever she finds will tell her something, because the dark curse conflicts with the time spell more than she’s let on, and though Emma has made sure everyone knows it’s not her fault, she cast the dark curse once and Rumplestiltskin seems sure she’ll cast it again. She glances at Emma, who’s lips are moving over her ancient dwarven.

  
  


It’s too easy. Regina knows this. She’s let Emma into her home, is teaching her magic, and even agreed to allow David to sleep in the basement, but it’s too easy. Though she’s teaching Emma magic, though David’s eating all her food, though she lets Emma take point on some parts of raising Henry, though she’s giving what she can to make sure she’s not so dependent on Emma, they’re still not equal, because Emma’s being too damn _nice_ , no matter what Regina gives it doesn’t feel like enough.

  
  


They don’t talk about Snow. Emma doesn’t mention her at all, and Regina’s not willing to alienate the one person who can obscure her memories, should they resurface. She can’t anger the one person whose presence ensures that she’s left to her life. She can’t trust Emma to just let her be angry, to let her hate Snow without justification for what Snow’s doing to her, to acknowledge that Snow has been nothing but toxic to her life.

  
  


So she sneers but bites her tongue every time the the topic of what the time spell has done to her comes up, doesn’t mention Snow around Emma, won’t risk losing the one person who’s willing to help her with her memories.

  
  


It’s too simple, too easy, moving in together, bantering back and forth won’t just _fix_ this, because they’re not talking, they’re snapping or rolling their eyes or clenching their teeth and there’s something missing.

  
  


The fire crackles, they sit in silence, turning pages in their books.

  
  


<>

  
  


Cora entered King Leopold’s study, simpering smile already plastered on her face. Leopold stopped his pacing and stared at her hard.

  
  


“Exactly what was the benefit, of sending your daughter’s marriage announcement to southwest Janus? With your _name attached_?” He growled, and Cora kept her smile, knew and understood how to handle a king’s temper.

  
  


“Your majesty, I only thought that Regina’s people would like to know she was to be married.”

  
  


“Her origins were of no importance!” Leopold slammed a hand on his desk, but Cora did not jump would not be intimidated. “Her ‘people’ know now, and my ambassador to northeast Janus informs me that there are talks of breaking our trade agreement. It was the northeast ambassador, because my ambassador to the southwest has disappeared. If one state of Janus wars, the rest will muster their rage. This is grounds for war between our kingdoms, Lady Cora, and grounds for your execution. Do you know what you’ve done?”

  
  


Cora nodded demurely. “Of course, sire.”

  
  


Leopold’s face grew red. “I doubt you do, because if you truly understood, you would not be standing there simpering. You’ve alerted the South-East state to the fact that the granddaughter of their greatest folk hero has married into Galabond, without treaty or benefit to them. There was a _reason_ , Lady Cora, that our wedding announcement left off your name.”

  
  


“I do know that, sire. But they must have been alerted, if we were to garner their support.”

  
  


“Support?” he snarled. “There are no plans of conquest that I am privy to. I am the King of this Kingdom, Lady Cora, and as such—”

  
  


“My king, please. If what I have in mind carries through, you will be king to two kingdoms, with the support of southwest Janus to back you.”

  
  


Leopold took a deep breath. “Lady Cora, while I’m sure you think highly of your political wherewithal, must I remind you again, that I am king. You would have been cast out if I wasn’t sure that Queen Regina needs her mother’s council.”

  
  


“For that, I am thankful. Your kindness to my daughter knows no bounds. I assure you my plan will benefit this kingdom more than my exile.”

  
  


“The queen is my wife and a mother to my daughter, nothing more.”

  
  


“Southwest Janus thinks she is more, and I assure you, sire, she could be worth so much more to you.”

  
  


The king stared hard at her. “It appears, that you have forced my hand. Speak your reason.”

  
  


Cora’s voice grew softer, and though she tried, from within her father’s wardrobe, Snow could no longer hear them. _Support for what_? She wondered as her legs began to cramp.

 

 

 


	5. This is where you live

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: triggers, murder, guns, vomit, blood, injuries, child abuse, death threats, emotional manipulation, cannibalism?

It’s been a month since Snow went back in time and the town is slowly starting to function normally again, though constantly regrowing trees still litter the dirt roads and the sidewalks at night are still lit by candlelight.

  
  


First and foremost, Emma lobbies to get Regina re-instated as mayor. She tells people it’s because no one else understands the town budget, which is true, she’s looked it over and it’s mostly incomprehensible, Regina has something bookmarked called “the candlestick fund” and Emma has no idea what that’s about. Really though, she’s realized that if Regina isn’t mayor, but is still getting paid, she’s not a corrupt politician, she’s just stealing, and the townsfolk don’t need another reason to distrust Regina. So Emma gets her back in office before anyone begins to wonder how they’re keeping things running at the mansion on just a sheriff and deputy’s salary.

  
  


Regina’s first act as the new old mayor is to warn the townsfolk against the color yellow. Apparently it attracts Cora, and as Regina, for some unknown reason, possibly to be a jerk, is refusing to say her mother’s name, so it’s Emma who has to give the press conference, telling everyone that if they spot the color yellow on the streets, the best course of action is to paint it a different color, preferably pink.

  
  


Which is why she’s storming into Regina’s office during her lunch hour, because she hadn’t parked the bug for more than five minutes before it was splashed with paint.

  
  


“Pink?! Seriously? What the hell?” Emma growls at Regina who looks up at her calmly. She can’t understand why Regina would be such an _asshole;_ she can’t say things were going great between everyone at the mansion, but David and Regina barely cross paths, she and Regina have managed to keep up their civil banter, in the name of breaking the time spell and Henry apparently has enough affection for everyone, so it’s not like things were going _badly_. Until this. This is unforgivable, this is her _car_.

  
  


“Everyone knows my mother hates pink.” Regina smirks.

.

“That’s bullshit!” Emma stomps her foot. “And why the hell did _I_ have to tell them that? You just made me give the townspeople the go ahead to deface my car!” She _had_ to endorse what Regina was saying, she has to make everyone see Regina isn’t a threat, that she’ll be good as the mayor.

  
  


“My mother—”

  
  


“Why the hell won’t you just say her _name_?”

  
  


Regina stares at her for a moment before answering. “I can’t be positive, but I believe she’s put a sort of…enchantment on her name. If I were to say it, she would arrive, no matter where I was. The best course of action while she’s currently at large is to not say her name at all.”

  
  


“If you can just call her to us, why don’t we just capture her that way?” Emma asks, exasperated.

  
  


“If she finds out that I am definitely no longer on her side, she will do everything in her power to oppose me, captured or not. Right now, she’s completely incapacitated. She can barely manage to transport herself. It’s best to just…” Regina takes a deep breath. “Let her suffer.”

  
  


Emma nods guiltily. “Right, fine. But if we’re not trying to fight Cora, why the hell did you have to make up that bullshit about yellow?”

  
  


“Just because we’re not directly searching for her, doesn’t mean the townspeople shouldn’t stay on their toes. As the new mayor, a show of power was needed. The warning against the color yellow was just to confirm that I have their best interests at heart, and besides it hurts no one.” She goes back to her papers. “If you didn’t like the rules I set in place, perhaps you shouldn’t have tried so hard to get me re-elected.”

  
  


“I…you…that’s bullshit, my car is covered in pink paint!” Regina ignores her. Emma pauses and leans over her desk. “Is this because all of your button-ups got turned pink? Because I swear, the red shirt was David’s.”

  
  


“I’m sure he has many brightly colored v-necks among all of his flannel.”

  
  


Emma runs a hand over her face. “Okay, look fine, I’ll…clean the car off or something.”

  
  


“You do that.”

  
  


“And I’ll meet you at the mansion after work. Dioba’s coming over isn’t she?”

  
  


Regina looks up in surprise, but quickly schools her face. “Yes. She is.”

  
  


“Alright, then we have to get rid of the blankets and pillows in the study…I’ll put them in the linen closet, so we can get to them again later.” Regina stares at her a moment, then nods. She glances at a document.

  
  


“I suppose we should both go back to doing our jobs.”

  
  


Emma groans and storms out again.

  
  


<>

  
  


Emma’s washing off her car outside of Granny’s when Ruby saunters up to her and leans on a non-pink splattered part of the bug.

  
  


“When you gave the press conference, I figured you were just trying to get a new paint job.”

  
  


“That’s funny, Ruby,” Emma groans. “Regina was the one who made up that shit.” She’s still bitter, will likely be bitter forever, or at least until her car is clean.

  
  


“Yeah, but.” Ruby picks a rag out of the bucket Emma’s using to clean the bug and starts wiping off the paint. “No one really trusts Regina, so you’re kinda in charge. I mean, you could’ve just told her no.”

  
  


Emma smiles at Ruby, glad she’s silently offering her help. “Thanks. And she probably would have told them to do it anyway.”

  
  


Ruby laughs. “No one would do anything she said if you didn’t agree with her.” Emma stops cleaning the car and looks at Ruby.

  
  


“I told everyone it wasn’t her fault.”

  
  


“Snow’s _missing._ ” Ruby rolls her eyes and shakes her head at Emma’s naivete. “For someone who chases hardened criminals and is supposed to know their motives, you’re not realizing what everyone else in town does. Everyone knows she hates Snow. I know you told everyone that it was Snow’s fault, but no one really believes that. Honestly, I think half the town thinks she enchanted you, but, you know, it’s Regina. Without you or Snow to stand against her, she’s really more your villain, no one else cares that much as long as no one’s attacking _them_ …” She looks at Emma closely. “I don’t even know why _you’re_ trusting her. I mean, Snow’s gone. And look—” Ruby runs a hand through her hair. “I’m not saying Regina’s the only one with a dark past. Half the town has a kill count—”

  
  


“Wait, what?” Emma stares.

  
  


Ruby sighs. “Emma…the enchanted forest isn’t like this world. I mean…I’m a werewolf. _The_ wolf. I’ve _killed_ people, Emma. Innocent people. I ate them.” Emma flinches but Ruby continues, ignoring Emma’s discomfort, because this is something she _has_ to understand. “And there were guards who died during the siege on Regina’s castle, who probably had families, and…it was different there. You can’t really compare the two places. Here, we’re kinda running on an unspoken amnesty, I guess.”

  
  


“Wait, an amnesty? When did that happen?”

  
  


“You’ve been gone for a while…” Ruby pauses. “Almost everyone here has to live with the people they were in the enchanted forest. How is someone supposed to forget that when they were fighting the evil queen, they stabbed a guy and didn’t even know his name? We’ve all done…things that we’re ashamed of,” she sighs. “For example, you know Gunther Hunter?”

  
  


Emma stares. “Gunther…Hunter?”

  
  


“Yeah, he was a hunter—”

  
  


“I got that, thanks.”

  
  


Ruby rolls her eyes but continues. “He works at Micheal Tillman’s garage, we made out a few times during the curse…” she pauses. “…I definitely ate his brother. And he and that brother killed Stealthy the dwarf before that. Both of us have to live with those deaths, and it’s…too much trouble to hate each other over it now. I’m not gonna get invited to play poker with him, and he’s not coming to one of the dwarves’ nights out, but we’re not really gonna try for revenge. No one wants a war, Emma.”

  
  


“You ate his brother. You ate _people_.”

  
  


“Yeah.” Ruby scrubs harder at the car. “It’s in Henry’s book. The men of my village, and my true love and some of Regina’s men.” She takes a deep, steadying breath. “I know there are others I probably don’t remember, but…we all have dark pasts. Now they just kind of conflict with our consciences here.”

  
  


“But…you’re different now. You don’t eat people anymore.” Emma’s trying to wrap her head around this, she knew in the back of her mind that in Storybrooke where people die or disappear on a scarily regular basis, the townsfolk probably have some kind of experience with death, but it’s one thing to think it and another to realize that Ruby _ate_ people.

  
  


“When Billy died I thought I had started again, but no, I don’t eat people anymore. Sheep though.”

  
  


“Actual furry sheep?”

  
  


“Yeah. It’s in the town budget. I get one a month on the full moon.”

  
  


“Oh.” Emma and Ruby stare at each other for a moment. “But you don’t eat people anymore…you changed,” Emma needs to believe this, needs to believe that everyone in town isn’t seconds away from breaking out their swords and hacking each other to death. “Like Regina’s changed.”

  
  


“I’m not saying she can’t or won’t change,” Ruby says defensively. “But she was there the night the time spell was cast, and Snow gone is all she’s ever wanted.”

  
  


Emma knows there’s more to Regina than just wanting Snow gone, knows there’s a mother, a woman, a person there, that she’s much more than just a villain, she can be _good_. But that’s Regina’s story to tell. “She wouldn’t have sent Snow that far back in the past just to get rid of her. Trust me, the effects of the time spell…suck. They’re _seriously_ awful. The time spell fucking up is Snow’s fault…and mine for being a shitty sheriff.” Things were going right, and now they’re not, and she doesn’t know what went wrong, so she deserves a pity party.

  
  


Ruby stares hard at Emma. “You’re not a shitty sheriff. You might have been enchanted into co-habiting with a witch, but the town isn’t in chaos or anything like that.”

  
  


Shaking her head, Emma doesn’t even look up, just scrubs harder at the paint. “That’s because whatever the time spell is doing to Cora makes it so she can’t attack anyone. And we still don’t know where she’s hiding. It’s my job to know that.” She’s failing at her job, she’s failing at breaking the time spell, and apparently she’s failing at getting along with Regina. She blinks. “We’re not co-habiting. It’s just easier to look after Henry and work on the time spell if we’re all staying in the same place. Besides, David’s there.” She pauses again. “I’m not enchanted.”

  
  


Ruby smirks. “Sure you’re not.” She places a soaking wet hand on Emma’s shoulder. “And seriously, you’re not a shitty sheriff. It could be much worse. There aren’t any angry mobs, only one guy died…two guys died, and they weren’t really preventable, at least not by you. And you’re working to fix everything.”

  
  


Emma leans down to clean some more paint off the grill; whoever paint-bombed her is going to pay. “I still don’t know why Regina would do this though.”

  
  


“Maybe she’s pissed at you?” Ruby shrugs. “If you’re living together, maybe you should just apologize or something.”

  
  


Emma sighs. “I didn’t _do_ anything to make her do _this,_ ” she gestures at the now mostly clean car. “Maybe I’ll just get her something, to say ‘I’m sorry’, or ‘Thanks for letting us live with you mostly rent free’.”

  
  


“Yeah, maybe,” Ruby looks over their handiwork. “I think I know how to stop this from happening again.” She bends over the side of the car, dips her finger in the bucket of dirty water, then writes something on the side.

  
  


“Ruby, what are you—”

  
  


Emma’s cut off as Ruby takes a deep breath, then blows out a gust of wind so strong it rocks the car where it’s parked, blowing leaves off the trees in the road. Dried on the side in slightly pink letters, reads: “DO NOT PAINT! CORA PROOF!”

  
  


Ruby grins as Emma stares at her in shock. “What? I am the wolf, Emma.” She picks up the bucket and moves toward the street. “Let’s do the other side.”

<>

  
  


Later that day, Dioba stares at all the books in the study, tapping her chin. “While you have many books on magic, I feel you don’t have… _enough_ , particularly not enough to help us really understand the time spell and its effects.”

  
  


Regina purses her lips. She’s apologized to Dioba for getting her caught up in the dark curse, but she’ll never actually regret the curse itself, not when it got her Henry. She hasn’t shown up at Our Stories yet, she’d rather know their leader doesn’t despise her before even showing her face there. But it will take time; Dioba’s lost parts of herself, people, and though she’s still helping to fix the time spell, Regina can feel the distance between them, one she was accustomed to feeling with all people, and is only now coming to regret. “I suppose the topics here are too broad. What do you suggest?” The only thing Regina can think to do is to be as courteous as she can, she’s trying.

  
  


“We could go to the library,” Dioba answers.

  
  


Emma freezes. A complaint came across the sheriff’s desk, one about a break-in at the library the night the time spell was cast. She shredded it before any of her deputies saw, no harm done. It’s not like she doesn’t know who did it, she vaguely remembers breaking in, drunk off her ass on Jameson.

  
  


“Emma?” Regina raises an eyebrow.

  
  


She shrugs as nonchalantly as she can. “Yeah, that’s fine with me.”

  
  


Regina nods thoughtfully. “I think the library would be wonderful.” She looks at Dioba. “Thank you for pointing it out.” She’s _trying_.

  
  


“We should pack up our notes, then.” Dioba reaches for some of the papers on the desk.

  
  


“Very well.” Regina says. Suddenly she frowns and blinks, hard.

  
  


<>

  
  


When the duke of South West Janus came to discuss politics with King Leopold, he brought his young daughter, Princess Ariana, a skinny nine year old with russet hair and an incredibly irritating _everything_. Snow watched her father and the duke head to the study where she knew Cora was waiting, leaving her alone in her room with Ariana, who refused to stop tugging on her dress.

  
  


“Your room is so pretty, Princess Snow! As is your dress! I love the material!” Ariana pulled harder on Snow’s dress, grinning cheerfully.

  
  


Snow swatted the little girl’s hand.

  
  


Ariana pouted. “Why did you hit me?” she whined.

  
  


“Because you’re irritating,” Snow answered snidely, rolling her eyes, she’d had experience with bratty kids before, but never noble ones, she had no patience for Ariana at all, she had to know what her father, the duke and Cora were discussing. She sighed. “I’m sorry. That was rude. Would you like to…play a game?”

  
  


“No,” Ariana shook her head. “I want to go see your stepmother again.”

  
  


“Oh,” Snow blinked. “You’ve met Queen Regina?” Regina rarely left her room, and always seemed to be napping, at least that’s what Cora said when Snow asked to see her. She didn’t dare tell her father that she hadn’t seen her ‘new’ mother in at least a week, it was one thing to not be able to help Regina’s situation, and another thing entirely to make it worse.

  
  


Ariana nodded. “Yes, but she said she felt ill, so she went to lie down.” She stomped her foot. “But I have _questions_ to ask her.”

  
  


Snow shrugged. “You could ask me. I know some things about her.” This wasn’t entirely true, she had an idea about how Regina’s future would go, but couldn’t tell much about her past.

  
  


“Okay.” Ariana giggled and sat herself primly on the chair in front of Snow’s mirror. “First one! Why is she brown?” Snow snorted and coughed.

  
  


“What…what do you mean?”

  
  


The little girl looked at her sharply. “You know exactly what I mean. I know what I think, but I want to know what you think.”

  
  


Snow shook her head quickly. “I have no idea what you mean…she likes to ride horses? Perhaps that’s why?”

  
  


Ariana put her fist on her chin. “That’s different from what I heard.”

  
  


“What did you hear?” Snow asked crossing her arms over her chest. She wasn’t about to spill what she knew to Ariana, who, besides being incredibly irritating, was also kind of terrifying. Nine year olds shouldn’t look so shrewd.

  
  


“Well,” Ariana leaned forward, eager to share a bit of gossip. “My cousin, Giacomo, is a prince in Ataecina. His father, Prince Tomas, is third in line to the throne, and his mother, Princess Camilla _was_ my aunt, but she died when he was a baby. Anyway, when I told him my papa wanted to murder your papa for marrying Queen Regina without telling or paying him, Giacomo said that his grandpa, King Xavier, was also angry. Do you want to know why?”

  
  


Snow nodded, entranced.

  
  


“Giacomo says Queen Regina is the daughter of Prince Henry. They left Ataecina _years_ ago, and changed their name and disappeared, and King Xavier declared them all exiled. Lady Cora is married to Lord Henry, and if Queen Regina is the daughter of Cora, that means she’s also the daughter of Lord Henry, who is Prince Tomas’ younger brother, which means she’s also Giacomo’s cousin and _that’s_ why she’s brown.” Ariana tapped her fingers on the table. “So. What do you think?”

  
  


“I honestly don’t know why you’re telling me this.” Snow shrugged, hoping to get more out of Ariana. She wouldn’t risk going into her father’s study again, not when the first time had been so awful, and the second yielded few results.

  
  


“Because I know more than you.” Ariana smirked superiorly. “I shared, and now you have to share. It’s only fair,” she stated firmly, crossing her arms over her chest.

  
  


“I don’t have much to share. Queen Regina likes to ride horses, she’s outside a lot. She’s tan.”

  
  


“You don’t know _anything_ do you?” Ariana sighed and stood. “I’m sure the Queen knows more. She’ll tell us things if we ask her, won’t she?”

  
  


“Why could you possibly want to know? Did your father put you up to this?” Snow asked, suspicious. Shee wasn’t even sure if she had met Ariana in her first childhood, and if they did meet they likely talked about ponies, or the likelihood of them finding true love.

  
  


Ariana laughed and rolled her eyes. “Papa doesn’t know I know all of this. I want to know because _I want to know_. South West Janus will be under my control some day.” She looked closely at Snow. “Don’t you want to know about the kingdom you’re going to be ruling?” She paused and then smirked. “I suppose not. You are the princess of _Galabond_.”

  
  


Snow’s hackles rose. “What’s that supposed to mean?” She growled.

  
  


“Just that you’re unlikely to see war. Galabond is a…secure kingdom, and will likely remain so far into your reign.” Snow knew when she was being manipulated but was having trouble understanding that she was being manipulated by a _child_. She was a bit insulted honestly, as the daughter of the King of Galabond, her status was higher than that of the daughter of the Duke of one state of Janus, and she should have been spoken to with the respect her higher status deserved. She sighed internally and decided to play along.

  
  


“You’re right of course. I will make a fine queen. What I don’t understand is why your papa wants to _kill_ my papa. In fact, if you don’t tell me, I’m going to tell my father that your father wants to kill him, and then my father will kill yours _first_.” Almost thirty years in a classroom in Storybrooke and she could mimic the whine of a petulant child like she still was one.

  
  


Ariana rolled her eyes. “Your father already _knows_ , why do you think we came here in the first place?”

  
  


“I really wouldn’t know.”

  
  


“Because,” Ariana grabbed Snow’s hand and led her out of the room. “Queen Regina, aside from being the granddaughter of King Xavier of Ataecina, is also the granddaughter of the greatest heroine of the Janus civil war. Surely you’ve heard of Fiamma?”

  
  


Snow shrugged. Perhaps in her studies in her first childhood she had read a bit about the civil war, but the name Fiamma jogged nothing in her memory. Ariana rolled her eyes.

  
  


“Then your education is sorely lacking. Look her up if you want to know, but now, as your guest, I demand you take me to see the queen.” Ariana stopped in the middle of the hallway and stomped her foot. “ _Now_. If father thinks I was unhappy with your company, I assure you, whatever deal your father is attempting to broker with him will fall through once we leave your borders.”

  
  


“Perhaps I tell my father now that your father will renege on his deal? What will happen then?” Snow asked petulantly, refusing to be cowed by an actual nine year old, no matter how politically savvy she was.

  
  


“Then perhaps he has us jailed or killed. But he won’t, simply because the full strength of the entirety of Janus will come for your kingdom. If one state of Janus wars, the rest will muster their rage. So,” Ariana grinned maliciously. “Will you take me to see your stepmother, or doom your future to a lifetime of war?”

  
  


Snow groaned, her future was already doomed, but she didn’t need to war with _Janus_. “Her quarters are this way.” She said, pulling Ariana behind her.

  
  


Ariana smiled. “I want you to know that I’m only being so frank with you, because you seem much more…intelligent than I remember hearing you were. All the rumors I’ve heard said you were quite vapid. The fact that you’re accomodating me speaks to your intelligence, truly.” Snow rolled her eyes but kept silent, not willing to fall for Ariana’s false flattery.

  
  


They stopped outside of a large wooden door, and Ariana knocked when Snow nodded.

  
  


“C-come in.” A soft voice spoke from the other side.

  
  


<>

  
  


In the study, Regina stares off into space eyes wide. “Snow came into my room, with a giggling little girl with hair like my mother’s. Snow seemed angry, angrier than I’d ever seen her, but she stood back as the little girl spoke. The girl said her name was Princess Ariana, and that she was the daughter of Duke Valerio of southwest Janus and had a few questions for me. I said I would answer them.”

  
  


“What is she saying?” Dioba asks, her eyebrows creased in worry.

  
  


“She’s…re-experiencing, I think. This is different from before though. The…kiss must have worn off.” Emma mutters, walking quickly to Regina. “Regina, can you hear me?”

  
  


“Kiss?” Dioba raises her eyebrows.

  
  


Emma glances at her. “It’s a sort of kiss. I have to give it again.” She moves her head to stare into Regina’s eyes. “Regina. Regina, can I kiss you?”

  
  


Regina’s head swivels quickly and she stares directly at Emma, but continues speaking. “I said that she could ask me any questions. She told me that her father wanted to know why we left Ataecina.

  
  


“Snow interrupted her and said that Ariana lied, that Princess Ariana had told her that Duke Valerio hadn’t put her up to asking things of me. And the little girl laughed, and she sounded like my mother, and she told Snow that she hadn’t lied, she did want to know, just that her father wanted to know too. And she asked me again, why did we leave Ataecina?

  
  


“I told her I didn’t know, because I didn’t, I never did, I was very small when we left, only nine. But Princess Ariana said that she was only nine but knew a lot.” Regina takes a deep shuddering breath before plowing on.

  
  


“She asked me if I felt more kinship to South East Janus where my mother was from, or Ataecina where my father and her cousin Giacomo were from, he was _our_ cousin Giacomo, I remembered Giacomo, he was only five when we fled Ataecina, just a baby.

  
  


“She said Giacomo’s mother was from Janus, but she died when he was young, and that Giacomo was Ataecinian first, and her father wanted to know who I was, was I from Ataecina or Janus. And I told her I didn’t know. And she scowled at me, and said I didn’t know much at all. And,” Regina’s voice grows louder and her eyes flash with rage. “I told her that though I did not know if I was from Ataecina or Janus, I did know that I was queen. And I ordered her to leave.”

  
  


“Regina.” Emma refrains from shaking her, but snaps her fingers, trying to get Regina’s attention. “If you want me to kiss you again, nod your head or something, okay?”

  
  


“And Ariana laughed, and said she would leave, but that she would tell the Duke I was rude to her, and the Duke would tell my husband the King, and I would be sorry, because the King of Galabond trumps a Queen without a land. And Snow dragged her from my quarters and I felt only fear.” Regina’s voice trembles, but she begins to nod vigorously, making eye contact with Emma.

  
  


“Okay, that’s a yes?” Regina nods again. “I’m gonna kiss you now, then.” Emma presses her lips to her hand for a moment, then turns her palm up, showing Regina the shimmering outline. Regina nods, and Emma presses her palm to her cheek. Regina sparkles, and then breathes a deep sigh. Emma smiles softly at her, but she doesn’t smile back.

  
  


“That’s what you meant by re-experiencing?” Dioba asks faintly, eyes wide.

  
  


“Yes.” Regina says softly.

  
  


“And Snow. You mentioned Snow. Is that…Snow from Storybrooke, in your memories?”

  
  


Regina nods, but doesn’t say anything, they’re not talking about Snow, she won’t badmouth Snow in front of Emma, not when she’s just been reminded of the power Emma holds over her.

  
  


Dioba looks at her closely. “Will you be okay?” she asks. “We can finish packing up and do this tomorrow if it’s better for you then.”

  
  


“That would…” Regina clears her throat. “That would be best.”

  
  


Dioba begins to leave the room, before stopping and turning to look at Regina. “I’m…sorry that this is happening to you. That Snow’s doing this to you.”

  
  


Regina blinks in surprise but nods. “Thank you.”

  
  


“I’ll call tomorrow before coming over,” Dioba smiles. “We can fix this.” She nods at Emma and leaves.

  
  


“What was that? What were you remembering?” Emma asks looking at Regina closely.

  
  


“I…the princess I mentioned. Princess Ariana. She’s from South West Janus like my mother…” Regina pauses.

  
  


“And?”

  
  


“I don’t think I met her in the original timeline. I do remember that she and her father died of sickness when Snow was 16,” she stares off into space. “I don’t know why she would be in my memories now,” she sighs. “That’s going to bother me until I find out.”

  
  


Emma nods. “What do you want for dinner? I can cook tonight.”

  
  


Regina looks at her and smirks absently, it’s almost a smile. “You? Cook?” She’s still not all there, a part of her is stuck, remembering the past.

  
  


“With some help from David. I was thinking we’d use your good pans, you know the expensive ones? And also the spices you won’t let Henry touch.” Regina glares.

  
  


“You will do no such thing.”

  
  


Emma grins and shrugs. “Well, we could always do spaghetti. I think I’ve got that down.” She resolves to put her plan into action tonight, she’s going to apologize for whatever made Regina want to mess with her car, she’s going to say thank you, and things will get better.

  
  


“I’m sure you do.” Regina smirks, for real this time, and she’s haughty and an absolute snob, but at least she’s not dwelling.

  
  


<>

  
  


In the guest quarters of King Leopold’s castle, Princess Ariana sat on her bed, flipping absently through a children’s book. Snow had left her after Queen Regina had kicked them out, and Ariana didn’t understand why Snow was so…touchy about the subject of the Queen. She couldn’t see much worth in the woman, the girl really, she seemed barely older than Snow herself.

  
  


Ariana looked up and smiled as her father, Duke Valerio entered the room. “What are you doing in here?” He asked his daughter, smiling back.

  
  


“ Princess Snow wanted to go to the kitchens, but I wanted a rest.” Ariana lied, grinning. He shook his head, recognizing the lie, but not contesting her on it, lying was only a part of political intrigue.

“Well, did you ask the Queen my question?” He folded his arms across his chest.

  
  


“Yes, papa. Though her answer was not very satisfactory.”

  
  


“Really? How so?”

  
  


Ariana sighed. “I asked her if she was from Ataecina or Janus, and she said she didn’t know. She seems a bit timid and weak-willed honestly. I mean, Giacomo is from Ataecina through and through, but at least he’s strong.”

  
  


Duke Valerio nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, he is,” he sat on the bed beside his daughter. “However, a deal has been brokered with King Leopold. Though the Queen is weak-willed, her mother, Lady Cora is not, and it is very clear to me that her alliances lie with South West Janus.”

  
  


“What’s she like, papa?” Ariana asked.

  
  


Valerio grinned proudly at his daughter. “Quite honestly, she reminds me of you, little girl.”

  
  


Ariana beamed and hugged her father.

  
  


<>

  
  


After Henry has been put to bed and David has gone out on patrol, Emma sits in the study with Regina, waiting for Ruby to show up with Regina’s gift. She’s absently flicking through her ancient dwarven text, she’s got the basics of the language down, it only took her a month, and now she just has to tell Regina what her enchanted object is gonna be.

  
  


“So guess what I did,” she starts, closing her book.

  
  


Regina raises an eyebrow and smirks. “What? I’m sure it wasn’t your laundry.”

  
  


“You’re right, I’ll do that tomorrow,” Emma grins. “What I did do, is I chose my enchanted object!”

  
  


“Well what is it?” Regina leans closer, interested.

  
  


“So when we were watching War Horse, for the second time—”

  
  


“It’s a beautiful film.”

  
  


“Yeah, okay,” Emma rolls her eyes. It’s like all Regina ever really wants to watch is horse movies. “Anyway, I was thinking I’d enchant my guns.”

  
  


Regina glances at Emma’s arms. “You can’t enchant a body part.”

  
  


“No,” Emma smirks. “See, I meant my actual guns, but if you were look—”

  
  


“Why your guns?” Regina cuts in.

  
  


Emma shrugs. “Well, I’m kinda shitty with a sword, and also a bow and arrow, and maces are terrifying to use, and actual mace would be…ridiculous, and so would a tazer, and I’m pretty good at aiming, so—”

  
  


“The guns sound like a good idea.” Regina smiles and goes back to her notes. The doorbell rings and she looks up in surprise.

  
  


Emma holds up her hand. “It’s for me, I’ve got it,” she says and jumps up.

  
  


Regina raises an eyebrow. “For you?”

  
  


“Yeah, I do live here,” Emma shrugs nervously. “Anyway, I’ll be right back.” She rushes from the room, all the way to the front door, yanking it open.

  
  


Ruby’s on the front step with a small box from Granny’s. “Emma, are you sure about this?” She asks, fidgeting. “This really doesn’t seem like the best way to say thank you, or I’m sorry or whatever.”

  
  


Emma rolls her eyes. “Trust me on this, Ruby. I’ve got this, it’ll work out fine.”

  
  


“If you’re sure.” Ruby sighs but hands over the box, still warm to the touch.

  
  


“I’m sure, thanks.” Ruby turns and leaves, shaking her head. Emma’s now a bit nervous about the whole thing, but she’s still sure this will work, that it’ll all work out. So she locks the door behind her, grabs two forks and a knife from the kitchen before heading back to the study. She places the box squarely on Regina’s desk, and Regina looks up at her in surprise. “It’s for you.” Emma says. “Open it.”

  
  


Regina glances at Emma, who nods eagerly. She carefully opens the box and stills. Inside is a pie.

  
  


“Is that apple?” Regina asks quietly.

  
  


“Yeah.” Emma scratches the back of her head, but grins proudly. “It’s from Granny’s. I had Ruby drop it off.”

  
  


Regina stares at the pie silently for a moment, before slamming the box shut. She stands quickly, and grabs her papers. “I’m going to bed.” She says sharply.

  
  


Emma just stares at her. “But…I got the pie, for us to eat.” She holds up the two forks.

  
  


“Why would I want to eat that fucking pie?” Regina sneers.

  
  


“Wha?” Emma gapes at her, before quickly recovering, when she realizes that Regina is seriously about to just leave for the night. “Wait, Regina! Why don’t you want the pie?”

  
  


Regina stops at the door, and turns and stares hard at Emma. “What was this supposed to mean?” She asks in a whisper. “Is this some sort of _joke_?”

  
  


“What? Regina, the pie is just supposed to mean that…that I’m on your side.” Emma says defensively, this is not going at all like she thought it would, she’s kicking herself already, but she still doesn’t know _why_.

  
  


“I _know_ that for whatever reason, you are on my side. I don’t need you to remind me, I know that. Do you think anyone else would be there, if you weren’t?” Regina snarls, eyes flashing. Emma just gapes at her. “Do you think I’m supposed to be okay with that, okay with knowing that I can’t even disagree with you, without losing everything I have?” She grits her teeth; how can Emma be so completely _dense._ “I don’t need to be reminded how much I currently depend on you,” she looks in disgust at the pie. “I’m not eating that.” The apple pie will always be a mark against her, it means she’ll never be able to move forward without being tethered to Emma. Regina takes a deep shuddering breath. Nothing makes her more scared now, than being tethered to someone, having her whole worth based on someone else’ word.

  
  


Emma blows out a sharp gust of air. “Whoa, Regina, that’s not what I meant at all. Like, not at _all,_ ” she looks at the pie, this went _so_ wrong. “Look, yeah, okay, now that I’m thinking about it, the pie was a bad idea. I’m sorry, okay?” Regina just looks at her, betrayal and hurt in her eyes. “That’s what the pie was supposed to mean in the first place, it means I’m sorry. I didn’t really know what I was apologizing for, but I figured you were pissed at me, because of the car, and since we’re sort of housemates, I figured I should apologize, but now I know _why_ you’re mad.”

  
  


“Do you? Because I should think a rational person wouldn’t go into an apology if they didn’t know what they should be sorry for.” Regina asks, sneering again.

  
  


“Yeah, I’m beginning to think that’s true,” Emma tries for nonchalance but fails utterly when Regina just continues to glare at her. “It’s absolutely true. I’m sorry that I didn’t get that, that I didn’t realize that…you probably really don’t want to be tied down, or feel like…you’re only important because I say you are,” Regina’s hackles rise but Emma continues quickly. “You’re not important because I say you are, your…importance has nothing to do with me. You’re the one who knows the most about how to break the time spell, and you’re doing it, even though it’s fucking with your memories, and I…appreciate that. And eventually, other people will too,” she scratches the back of her head again. “The pie was also supposed to be a thank you.”

  
  


Regina raises an eyebrow. “For what?”

  
  


“For…” Emma sighs. “For letting us stay with you. For teaching me magic. For letting me take point on Henry sometimes. And I know now that’s probably because you didn’t want to disagree with me, but…it was still pretty nice of you. This is better than any place I’ve ever lived. By a lot. And,” she looks Regina in the eye. “Even if we did disagree on something, I wouldn’t not stop your memories if you needed me to. I wouldn’t do that. This whole situation is more my fault than it is yours, I’m the s _heriff_ —”

  
  


“And what, that makes me your _responsibility_?” Regina’s snarls.

  
  


“No, no it means I shouldn’t have been so drunk the night you cast the time spell, I shouldn’t have been waving my gun around, and I should have stopped this from happening in the first place. All of this is my fault,” Emma says, letting her guilt spill out. “Snow and I…we used Henry, we used how much you care about him to get you to help us, even though you didn’t want to.”

  
  


“I cast the time spell, Emma. It was mine.”

  
  


“Yeah, but—”

  
  


“Don’t you dare. I created it. I’ve cast it multiple times, and I cast it that night. Your mother ruined it, as she does everything, but I made the choice to cast it in the first place. It was my _choice_. It was a mistake, but it was mine. You need to realize that.”

  
  


“Regina, you cast the spell, but it isn’t your fault it went wrong.” Emma tries again, because Regina can’t be blaming herself for all that’s gone wrong, all that’s happening, she was not the only one on main street that night.

  
  


“I _know_ I’m not at fault for that. But that does not mean I didn’t have a hand in it,” she looks at Emma carefully. “I’m not a saint. My deeds are my own, and no matter what…memories Snow is bringing up, it does not change what I’ve done.”

  
  


Emma stares. Regina’s not all good, will never be all good, no one is all good. And Emma used to _know_ that, used to feel it in her bones, every kind face in a crowd was a potential bail-jumper, every word a lie. But this town, and these fucking fairytale people, and Ruby tried to tell her, but she didn’t understand. It only occurs to her now to wonder what her parents kill count is. She runs a hand through her hair in frustration. Henry had been convinced his mother was all bad, and Emma was convinced that Regina could be good, all good, she ignored all everything Regina has done, simply because… “I wanted to help you.”

  
  


“If you’d like to continue to do so, you can’t just pretend like I’ve done nothing wrong. I know I have. For years I reveled in it,” Regina leans forward on the desk. “Do you know what it feels like to finally be free?” Emma nods because she does, she remembers what it felt like to be eighteen and out of jail, with no one to depend on her, at the time she refused to think on the baby that didn’t depend on her.

  
  


He depended on Regina, and for all she’s done wrong, Emma’s still glad Henry ended up with Regina, alive and okay.

  
  


“You raised Henry when I couldn’t.” When she was alone, when she didn’t have parents whose story was that they were good, no questions asked, when she didn’t have to live up to that, when she only had to eat and find somewhere to sleep, and anyone who claimed they were good just didn’t understand what it took to survive.

  
  


“Yes.” Regina smiles. “I did.”

  
  


Regina lives in the gray. And with all the drunken gun-toting and absolute fuck-ups, her past deceits, Emma lives there too.

  
  


“Do you want me to…stop telling people it wasn’t your fault?”

  
  


“No,” Regina sighs. “I would however like it if you stopped your crusade to convince everyone that I have done no wrong. It’s not working, and you’re the only one who seems to believe it. No one can just _forget_ what was done to them by the dark curse. I can’t continue on with my life if you’re running around trying to convince everyone it never happened. Let me make amends, on my _own_.”

  
  


“Okay,” Emma runs a hand through her hair then looks Regina directly in the eye. “I’m sorry,” Regina nods. “And…you don’t have to worry about me not…doing the memory thing. As long as you need me to, I’ll do it. I won’t withhold that from you, ever.”

  
  


“Thank you.”

  
  


“So…this was supposed to be an, I trust you, thank you and I’m sorry, but I fucked it up. But all that still stands, okay?”

  
  


“I’m still not eating that.” Regina points to the accursed apple pie, and Emma thinks it’s one of the worst ideas she’s ever had, but at the very least, they got the air cleared a bit.

  
  


“Yeah, the pie was a bad idea. I’m sorry.”

  
  


Regina nods, and sighs, and while Emma’s sure she’s not completely forgiven, at the very least Regina no longer looks like she wants to stab her with one of the forks. Regina places her hastily put together papers on the desk and runs a hand through her hair. “I want to sleep.”

  
  


Emma blinks. “Like in your bed?” It’s been a month since the time spell was cast, and every night has been spent on the couches in the study.

  
  


“No.” Regina’s tongue can’t bring herself to say why, Emma’s never pushed her to say _why_ she hasn’t slept in her bed in over a month. “I’m going to sleep in here.” She’ll leave the lights on, and lay down and try to sleep, she needs to think, needs her time alone.

  
  


“Okay. I can…go.” Emma doesn’t know if Regina will actually be able to not have nightmares, but she’s always been a light sleeper, she’ll keep an ear out in case she hears anything.

  
  


“You do that,” Regina sits on the couch, she glances at Emma. “And the next time you attempt to tell me something in the most bone-headed way possible, at the very least make the pie yourself. Granny’s pies are overrated, and we have an entire orchard of apple trees at your disposal. As I’m sure you remember.”

  
  


Emma nods, remembering the day after they had first met, and she’d taken a chainsaw to Regina’s apple trees. “Yeah, I remember.”

  
  


“I’ll rescind the ordinance about the color yellow.”

  
  


“Thanks,” Emma leaves, closing the door behind her. She pauses and opens it again. “I can sit outside the door, just in case you have…just in case you want me to wake you.”

  
  


Regina stares at her for a moment. “You can.”

  
  


“I will. Goodnight.” Emma says, and closes the door again.

  
  


<>

  
  


Whether it’s emotional exhaustion, relief or reassurance, Regina sleeps soundly on the couch that night. She leaves the study in the morning, to find Emma, legs splayed out and drool falling from her mouth, sleeping sitting up against the wall. She stares for a moment before going upstairs to get ready for the day.

  
  


She’s in the kitchen making coffee, Henry’s sleeping in this Saturday, when the phone rings, just as Emma wanders in, still in her poor excuse pajamas, a t-shirt for a college she never went to and a pair of sweats.

  
  


“Did you sleep well?” Emma asks over the ringing of the phone.

  
  


Regina nods before she answers it, and Emma grins. “Hello?”

  
  


“Regina, it’s Dioba. Are we still meeting at the library later today?”

  
  


Regina glances at Emma for a moment. They should really get to working on the time spell more in depth. But…she slept well and it’s Saturday, and it’s been a while since she spent the whole day with Henry. “Do you think it would be possible for us to push it back a day or two?” She asks.

  
  


“Not a problem at all.” Regina smiles, and Emma looks at her in surprise, tilting her head. “By the way, Regina, I was thinking that the Infinite Forest comes up a lot in what we have found that’s been related to the time spell.” Regina watches Emma make coffee for a few moments, before realizing that she’s supposed to respond.

  
  


“Oh, yes that’s true. I do know some things about it, and a lot of the magic from there is woven into the spell. However, I don’t know how to break the effects of it.” Emma looks at her quizzically, but Regina just shakes her head.

  
  


“I think I know someone who might know a bit more. She’s often busy though, and honestly may not be willing to help. She’s an insular person, and this spell we’re stuck in wouldn’t necessarily bother her.”

  
  


Regina furrows her brow. “What do you mean, it wouldn’t bother her? We’re stuck in time for the foreseeable future.”

  
  


Dioba sighs. “She’s had some experience with…time, even before the dark curse. I’ll try to talk to her,” there’s a pause. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Regina.”

  
  


Regina smiles. “I will, and the same to you Dioba.”

  
  


“Goodbye.” She hangs up.

  
  


“Are we going to the library?” Emma asks, sipping her coffee.

  
  


“No,” Regina shakes her head. “I thought that Henry would like it if…we all spent the day together.”

  
  


Emma attempts to answer her, forgetting there’s coffee in her mouth. She spits all over her shirt and grabs a dishrag attempting to salvage it. She sighs in defeat before looking at Regina, who’s smirking at her.

  
  


“Yeah, I think a day with Henry would be pretty nice.”

  
  


.

<>

  
  


Two months into the time spell and Ruby’s racing through the forest on her way to check out a noise disturbance on the far side of town. One of the benefits of being a werewolf is that she doesn’t really need the squad car. She can run clear across town in ten minutes flat, especially since she can ignore the red lights.

  
  


“Emma, look,” she says as she dodges a tree, her cell phone lodged between her ear and shoulder. “No one’s saying you two are dating. You’re just…living together and sharing a kid. I mean, I’m not saying people are starting to talk, they’ve been talking for at least a month now, but you can’t tell me you two aren’t at least somewhat… _friendly_ yet.” She listens to Emma’s voice on the other end, just as she jumps over a log. “Right, I know it’s none of my business, but it is gossip, and people are gonna talk whether or not you tell me. So…are you two shacking up in the mayor’s mansion?” She hears Emma groan in frustration just as the line goes dead, and laughs to herself.

  
  


As much as Emma tries to explain that the situation with Regina is only for the sake of practically, there’s really no excuse for how easy it was for the two of them to just start _living_ together. Ruby’s never had to share a place with someone else, but she can’t imagine that it would be just because they fell into it, like Emma’s trying to claim. There has _got_ to be more to the situation than that.

  
  


She slows down as she reaches the edge of the forest, and can actually _hear_ the noise disturbance. It’s some godawful excuse for a rock band, blasting their ‘music’ from the Old McConnell farm. She groans and almost wishes it was Cora she had to deal with, and not what’s likely going to be some teenagers attempting to make it big in Storybrooke of all places. She saunters up to the front door and prepares to knock, just as it’s yanked open.

  
  


Old man McConnell stands on the other side in his overalls, clutching a chicken to his chest with one tanned arm, a pained look on his wizened face. “You from the sheriff’s department?” He asks.

  
  


Ruby stares at him, bemused for a moment before nodding quickly. “Uh, yeah. We got a call about a noise disturbance?”

  
  


“That was me,” he shifts the chicken to the other arm and scratches at his stubble with his brown hand. “My son’s band is…very loud, and I told him, I told him that if he didn’t stop that racket, I’d call the police. So I did. I had to, they’re upsetting the chickens. The chickens won’t lay when they’re upset, which means I can’t sell their eggs. It’s a problem of economy.”

  
  


Ruby sighs, this is looking more like a domestic dispute, which are the worse kind of calls. “Yeah, okay. So…where’s it coming from?”

  
  


McConnell sticks his head out the door, and points around the side of the house. “They’re in the barn.” Ruby nods at him before heading in the direction he pointed to. As she gets closer to the barn, she’s able to distinguish exactly what she’s hearing. There’s a trumpet, what sounds like a very loud electric guitar…and someone shrieking. She reaches the barn and groans, realizing that the doors are _closed_ tightly and they’re still incredibly loud. She pulls on the handle hard, so hard that it flies back, revealing three scrawny teenagers. They all stop playing. The teenager holding a guitar quickly moves to kick away what looks like an empty can of pink paint.

  
  


“Who are you?” asks the boy with the trumpet, he’s wearing a ratty blue sweatshirt, a confused look on his face. “Did my pop call you?”

  
  


“Yeah,” Ruby puts her hands on her hips surveying the room. “I’m from the sheriffs department. Your dad’s complaining about the noise, you need to keep it down some. I’m also gonna need all your names.”

  
  


The boy in the blue sweatshirt shrugs. “Sure, I mean we’ll try to keep it down, I guess. I’m Blue McConnell.” He holds out his hand for Ruby to shake.

  
  


She does so and glances at the other two boys in the room. “Who are you?” she asks the boy who kicked the can and is now strumming his guitar nonchalantly.

  
  


He looks up in false surprise. “Arturo Soto,” he says and shrugs, before going back to his guitar. She writes his name down in her notepad and is about the question the last teenager, when she spots a furry ball curled up in the corner.

  
  


“Is that a lamb?” she asks softly, attempting to hide the fact that her mouth is beginning to water.

  
  


“Yeah…” Blue says, eying her suspiciously. “It’s my sister’s. I have to watch it while she’s at after-school, she’s not allowed to take it with her anymore,” he moves a bit to stand in front of the lamb. “Which deputy did you say you were?” he asks, tapping his foot on the dirt floor.

  
  


“I didn’t,” she says, and only just manages to stop her stomach from growling. She turns to the last kid, who’s staring at her, brown eyes wide, mouth agape. “What’s your name?” the kid just continues to stare. “Hey. I said, what’s your name?” Silence.

  
  


“Her name’s Simone Bellman,” Arturo supplies, not looking up from his guitar. “Our lead singer.”

  
  


This was the kid who was shrieking, but suddenly she’s completely silent. She just continues to stare at Ruby. “What’s her deal?” she asks.

  
  


“Should I know?” Arturo blinks at Simone, before snapping his fingers. “Hey, Simone. What’s up?” Simone stays silent, staring. Arturo shrugs. “I don’t know what’s with her, but we’ll try to keep it down.”

  
  


“Yeah,” Blue says. He looks at a watch on his wrist. “It’s probably time to wrap up anyway. I have to go pick up Mary,” he looks at Ruby. “We’ll be quieter from now on.”

  
  


“Alright.” She says and turns to leave, ignoring Simone staring at her.

  
  


Within a week, the McConnell barn has been outfitted with soundproofing foam, courtesy of a music fund in the town budget.

  
  


Ruby’s asked back to the McConnell farm, this time to hear the band’s rendition of ‘A Wolf at The Door’ renamed ‘Scarlett Cop’ and sung earnestly by Simone Bellman, as her bandmates roll their eyes.

  
  


<>

  
  


Emma has her feet up on the conference table, leaning back and copying from a book in Dwarven as Henry and Diarra peer over her shoulder. They’ve spent two months in the library, and while Dioba and Regina have managed to translate a lot of different texts, actual understanding of the time spell is harder. Or so they’ve told Emma, all she’s really done is practice her dwarven and find the correct runes to mark her gun.

  
  


“What does that one mean?” Henry points to a curly rune that splits off near the end.

  
  


“Umm,” Emma glances at the page. “That one means ‘to fling’ and there are two points, so it means…to fling sweat and whatever is being crafted. Probably into a fire.”

  
  


“Are you going to have to do that? Like with your guns?” Henry asks. Regina glances up from her book and glares at Emma.

  
  


“No, I just have to carve it in,” Emma looks hard at him. “Never fling guns in a fire. Just don’t do that. Don’t even touch guns. Or fire. Promise me.”

  
  


He smirks. “I won’t.”

  
  


“No, seriously.”

  
  


“I promise.”

  
  


“Okay.” She glances at Regina, who’s gone back to reading some thick leather bound book. “So, when I get these guns made, who would win in a fight? Me or you?” Emma asks.

  
  


“Me,” Regina says confidently, not even looking up from her book. “You’ll still have to learn how to channel that magic after they’re made. Add in the fact that there’s only so much magic you’d be able to push through them, as they’ll have a power cap before they explode in your hands, and you would lose,” she smirks. “There’s really no contest. I’m very powerful, Emma.”

  
  


“Yeah, I know,” Emma grouses. “But who would win in a fight between you and Rumplestiltskin?”

  
  


Dioba smirks and Regina glances at Henry and Diarra, who are both leaning forward in their seats, waiting eagerly for her answer. “I suppose that depends. Do I have time to prepare, or is our battle sudden?”

  
  


“You’re taking this seriously,” Emma puts her feet down and leans forward. “I guess it’s a sudden battle.”

  
  


“Well, when it comes to Rumplestiltskin…” Regina pauses. “He has much more magical experience than I do, but he also has a tendency to underestimate threats. He taught me all he wanted me to know, but he doesn’t know all that I learned, so I would use that to my advantage. He’s not an elemental. His power originally came from an object, I believe, like it says in Henry’s book,” Henry grins and nods. “He knows mostly casting magic, and is skilled in the use of magical objects, but his innate magic doesn’t compare to mine. I suppose, I would use as many distraction techniques as I could, as well as illusion, he’s actually very gullible,” she smiles. “I would conjure an image of Belle, as a distraction, then take him out that way.”

  
  


“Would that work?” Diarra asks.

  
  


Regina sighs. “While I know what he taught me, there’s no way for me to know everything he knows. Something like that would likely have a chance of working, but I can’t be sure,” she smiles at him. “There’s a reason why Rumple and I rarely directly oppose each other.”

  
  


“Because you don’t know who would win?” Emma raises her eyebrows.

  
  


Dioba laughs. “There would be too much collateral damage,” she glances at the clock. “I need to head home in an hour,” she says. Diarra pouts but stays silent, sitting next to Henry at the table.

  
  


“I want to go over this part with you,” Regina points to a page in her text. “There’s a part here about the infinite forest, but half of it is in… _this_.” She smacks the text in frustration.

  
  


Henry furrows his brow. “Mom, what’s the infinite forest?”

  
  


“Don’t you know?” Diarra grins at Henry. “I thought _everyone_ knew.”

  
  


Regina cocks her head. “I’ve told you about that, haven’t I?” Henry shakes his head.

  
  


Emma looks between them. “It keeps coming up in the notes you give me, but I don’t really know what it _is_ , except that it has something to do with the time spell.”

  
  


“No.” Regina shakes her head. “The time spell has something to do with the infinite forest,” she looks at her audience and smiles. “I think we have time to go into the geography of the old world.”

  
  


“You mean the enchanted forest?” Henry asks.

  
  


“The old world, is the world we’re from in it’s entirety. The enchanted forest is just…a forest that connects a few kingdoms.” Dioba supplies moving back to the table and sitting on the arm of her son’s chair.

  
  


Regina counts off on her fingers. “ The enchanted forest is Galabond, where Snow is from and where I ruled. There’s Percignal, where King George and David are from, and Renart where Cinderella is from. These three kingdoms share a forest, the enchanted forest between the apex of their borders. There’s a basin in that forest, where the magic of those lands comes from. Specifically, the werewolves, like Ms. Lucas, the fairies and the dwarves. As well as dragons.” Emma raises her eyebrows at the mention of dragons, remembering Regina’s confession about Maleficent, but it’s Henry who speaks first.

  
  


“What about witches?” He asks.

  
  


Regina smiles. “It’s said that witches are descended from dragons. Gullible humans and dragons in human form.” Emma hides a snicker. “The dragons would lure their meals in with promises of kisses and gold, then…” Regina looks away from Henry. “Created…children and devoured the men whole.”

  
  


Diarra nods thoughtfully. “I know all this, but where did the children come from? How did they make the children?” He and Henry share a glance and try to hold in their grins.

  
  


Regina stills and stares at Henry, at a loss for words, he is still entirely too young to know details about sex, and she certainly isn’t going to be telling him about sex with _dragons_. Dioba shakes her head discreetly at Regina.

  
  


“But what about the infinite forest?” Emma cuts in, saving everyone from a prematurely awkward conversation.

  
  


“Well,” Regina clears her throat and nods at Emma, relieved. “The first records of the infinite forest date back a little over 300 years before the dark curse. It’s a border system that weaves its way throughout most of the kingdoms of the old world. It’s not always a forest, sometimes it’s an infinite desert, river or jungle. Of the people here in Storybrooke, however, most are from the area marked by the infinite forest.” She glances at Dioba, who continues.

  
  


“There’s Galabond, Percignal and Renart, as were mentioned. Then there’s Dovelico, where Princess Abigail and King Midas are from, Panthea where Maleficent and Princess Aurora are from, Ataecina where your mother is from,” Dioba smiles and inclines her head towards Henry. “And Janus. Janus is the largest kingdom in the area. Ruby, Archie, Marco, Granny all come from Janus, just different states. And the infinite forest marks the borders of these kingdoms.”

  
  


“As well as my mother. She’s from South West Janus, which is closest to Ataecina.” Regina adds, still smiling at Henry, though Emma sees that her eyes have darkened.

  
  


“Why is it called infinite though?” Henry asks. He’s not entirely distracted from the question of where children come from, but he’s much more focused on this, _this_ is more interesting.

  
  


“It’s called the infinite forest because it’s bigger on the inside than on the outside.” Dioba says. “If I were to fly over the lands on a gryphon, in some places the forest would be nothing more than a bit of woods between kingdoms. But if I landed smack in the middle, I could wander forever and never find my way out. There are trade routes and fairy paths throughout, connecting the kingdoms, so getting lost isn’t a big problem for many, but if someone where to enter the forest anywhere else besides these points, and lacked the proper magic to find their way out, they could wander forever. Time passes slowly there.”

  
  


Regina smiles at Henry. “Some of the magic of the infinite forest was actually woven into the dark curse and the time spell.”

  
  


Emma stares at Regina in awe. “That’s some pretty powerful magic. You harnessed it?”

  
  


“Yes.” Regina nods. She pauses in thought for a moment, then her face grows dark. “But it was not without it’s costs.”

  
  


Henry has watched his mom tell her tale with a growing look of recognition on his face. “I’ve heard this story before. Right?” he asks. “I remember, you used to tell me about a forest bigger on the inside than it was on the outside.”

  
  


Diarra rolls his eyes. “I _told_ you you knew the story.”

  
  


“Yeah, but I just didn’t _remember_.”

  
  


Regina smiles. “I used to tell you bedtime stories of the old world.”

  
  


“So they were all true?” Henry grins as Regina nods.

  
  


<>

  
  


Three months into the time spell, David moseys down the street on the way to the grocery store, Trader Jack’s, for a public disturbance call. He’s also going to pick up groceries, and this is why he’s on the phone, arguing with Emma.

  
  


“Yes, I have the list,” he groans. “That was one time, and I wrote it down. The list says pancetta, not bacon, I know.” It’s not his fault if Regina wants to be fancy with her ingredients, especially since bacon and pancetta are basically the _same thing_. “Look, Emma, I’m at the grocery, I’ve got to go,” he glances inside the window and sees what looks like…a green bear. “I think I know what this disturbance call is all about.” He hangs up his cell and enters the grocery.

  
  


It’s not a bear he saw through the window. Now he sees that instead of a bear, it’s just a giant man, who looks like he’s wearing bearskin. A green bearskin coat. And he smells like rotten fish.

  
  


“Sir,” David says. The man looks down on him, and David’s never felt so small. “Sir, I’m here about a public disturbance call, and uh…I believe you’re the public disturbance.”

  
  


“Fuck,” the man curses, his voice deep and guttural. “I only want to buy some fish.” He smells like he’s already eaten the fish, but left the rotting flesh in his mouth for weeks, David gags, but manages to compose himself.

  
  


Storybrooke has a collection of eccentric weirdos living on the outskirts of town, and this man is probably one of them. “I’m Deputy David. Could you tell me your name?”

  
  


“I go by Bearskin.”

  
  


“What?” David stares. “I meant your name during the dark curse.

  
  


Bearskin shrugs. “I was a survivalist in the forest during the curse. I had a name, but I’m not going by it now.”

  
  


“Okay. Sir, could you follow me?” David points outside.

  
  


“No. I need my fish.”

  
  


David nods. “Okay, could you follow me to the…fish aisle?” Bearskin nods and lugs himself to the back of the store. David and the smell of rotting follow him. “Uh, Bearskin…why aren’t you bathing? I mean that’s really all this complaint is about.”

  
  


“Well, before the dark curse, and even during, I had a pretty nice setup. But now…” Bearskin sighs and David backs away from the smell. “I’ve fallen on something like hard times. My only option is to appeal to my brother.”

  
  


“Your brother? He doesn’t want you to bathe?” David does not understand what’s going on, he’s fought dragons and Medusa, but he has no real idea how to handle…this.

  
  


“It’s not that he doesn’t want me to bathe. Just that in the old world, when I didn’t bathe for seven years I…won a bet with him.” Bearskin shrugs again.

  
  


“Your brother doesn’t seem like a very good guy. I can relate to that.” David’s had his own experience with really awful siblings.

  
  


“Oh? Who was your brother?”

  
  


“Prince James from Percignal. Really not a nice guy. Who was yours?”

  
  


“A man with cloven hoofs.”

  
  


“Oh. Yeah, I can see how that would be bad.” David looks around, checking for nuns. “Well, in light of the fact that really you’re just trying to live up to the ideals set by your brother,” He clears his throat self-consciously, he’s absolutely not projecting his complicated feelings about his twin onto a giant smelly man in a green fur coat. “I think we could let this go, just once. I’ll talk to the manager, and see if we can’t work out someway for you to shop during off hours.”

  
  


Bearskin nods. “Thank you.” David smiles and prepares to start his shopping. He glances at the meats. “It’s basically _bacon_ ,” he grumbles as he grabs the pancetta.

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


  
  


Emma’s putting the finishing touches on her pistols in the library. It’s been four months, and she’s learned Dwarven and made herself a magical object, and everything is still sort of shit, but it could be worse.

  
  


“Emma,” Henry wanders over. “Do you know any stories I haven’t heard?”

  
  


“Why don’t you find a book?”

  
  


“I’ve read all those before.”

  
  


“You can’t have read every book.”

  
  


“Mom said we’ll look at some of the history books later, when she has more time. And she put a lock on the grimoires. Unless you want to break it for me?”

  
  


“Nope.” Emma glances at Henry’s waiting face. She doesn’t know of any fairy tales he hasn’t already heard, and she doesn’t really have any entertaining stories to tell that aren’t about her committing a misdemeanor at the very least. And Regina would be pissed if she ‘glorified crime’ to Henry, which is just really hypocritical. She might have some she could tell him about her days as a bailbondsperson, but she’d have to think of a kid friendly one.

  
  


Regina walks into the room and sits across from Emma. “Are you almost finished?”

  
  


“Yep.” Emma smiles as Henry pulls himself into Regina’s lap. He’s too big for it, but Regina just wraps her arms around him. Emma puts the last rune on her gun. “I’m done. Do you want to name them?”

  
  


Henry leans forward to touch them, but then pulls back, he’s had gun safety drilled into his head since Emma and David started living at the mansion. “What do they do?” He asks.

  
  


“They let me direct my magic anywhere I want it to go, they make it easy for me to decide what I want to do with it, no one can take them from me if I don’t want them to, no one else can use them unless I want them to, and I can call them to me…but only once I give them a name.” Emma rattles off the list.

  
  


Henry stares at the guns for a moment, before deciding. “Name them Mjolnir.”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“They sound like Thor’s hammers.” He explains.

  
  


“Thor only has one hammer.” Regina smirks over the top of Henry’s head.

  
  


Henry twists around and grins at his mother cheekily. “He should have two.”

  
  


“Okay.” Emma shrugs. She kisses the first one. “Mjolnir one.” She kisses the second. “Mjolnir two.” The guns glow.

  
  


“You’re not gonna shoot my mom when you have to renew the memory spell, right?” Henry asks. Regina smirks.

  
  


“What? No, I’m not gonna shoot your mom.” Where does Henry even _get_ these ideas.

  
  


“So you’re still gonna kiss her? Because you’re _friends_?”

  
  


“Kid…” Emma flushes bright red. She thinks they’re friends, they live together, spend most of their free time together, are sort of raising a kid together, and she cares about Regina more than she does most people in town. Which probably means they’re at least friends, but she’d rather Regina confirm that.

  
  


Regina pauses thoughtfully. Emma’s been helping her in ways no ever has before, has been willing to _listen_ and just accept her. “Yes, Henry, because we’re friends.”

  
  


Emma nods. They’re definitely friends.

  
  


“Good.” Henry says.

  
  


“Should we try them out?” Regina nudges Henry off her lap and stands.

  
  


“Yeah.” Emma puts the guns back on the conference table, just as Henry runs to the door.

  
  


“This is gonna be so cool!” He shouts.

  
  


“Wait for us, Henry,” Regina says. She looks at Emma. “Once we’re out there, you’re going to call the guns to you. They should fly into your hands, if you’ve written the runes correctly.”

  
  


“I have.” Emma claims.

  
  


Regina nods and walks to Henry. “Come on, Emma!” Henry opens the door and runs out.

  
  


Emma follows them outside. The sidewalk outside the library is lit by candlelight. Bearskin has taken on Leroy’s old position, and somehow Emma’s found enough money in the sheriff’s budget to hire Leroy on as a full deputy. Regina won’t say how it got there. Since Bearskin is now the one lighting the candles, they’re all scented, and all the streets in Storybrooke have different fragrances, depending on location.

  
  


Emma sniffs the air and smiles. It smells like cinnamon apple.

  
  


“Call them, Emma!” Henry yells impatiently from the road. Regina leans against a tree, her arms around him.

  
  


“Alright! Are you ready?” Emma asks. Henry and Regina nod in confirmation, eyes fixed on the wall of the library. “Okay.” She takes a deep breath, holds out her hands and yells. “Mjolnir one and Mjolnir two!”

  
  


There’s a pause, and then the wall of the library blows outward in a huge explosion, bricks and mortar flying everywhere, the air immediately filled with dust.

  
  


“For fuck’s sake!” Regina yells, and Emma shuts her eyes tight, bracing for impact. It never comes, instead she feels something smack both her palms, hard, then someone grabs her elbow and yanks her away from the blast. When she opens her eyes again she’s under a purple shield, debris littering the area surrounding them, and Regina’s arms are around her and Henry. “Are you both all right?” Regina asks, letting down her shield and checking Henry over for injuries.

  
  


“I’m fine, mom. You cursed,” Henry says, grinning. “But that was awesome!” he glances at Emma’s who’s bowed over. “Are you okay?”

  
  


“I think I’m hurt.” Emma’s palms are bloody. It hurts, but no more than any injury she’s gotten in the past, and she knows she can handle it. She glances at her guns. “I guess they did come, huh?” her voice is strained.

  
  


Regina reaches for her hands. “Let me see—”

  
  


Emma sees the irritation and worry on Regina’s face quickly turn to fear. “Regina, what’s wrong?” she asks.

  
  


<>

  
  


Cora held Regina’s hair, rubbing soothing circles on her back as she vomited.

  
  


“Mama, I just want to go _home_.” Regina sobbed.

  
  


“Oh, my dear.” Cora crooned. “You are home.”

  
  


<>

  
  


“I think I’m going to be ill.” Regina mutters, bending over at the waist.

  
  


“Mom?” Henry asks, placing a tentative hand on her back. “Mom, are you okay?” He glances at Emma. “Help each other!”

  
  


Emma steps over to Regina, leaning into her face. “Can I kiss you? Like on the forehead, I can’t use my hands, nod, or blink twice, or whatever you can do—”

  
  


“Yes.” Regina whispers and lifts her head upwards.

  
  


Emma kisses her and watches Regina’s shoulders relax as the memories fade away.

  
  


“Mom? Mom, are you okay?” Henry asks, tugging at her coat.

  
  


“No. But I will be.” Regina says, taking a slow steadying breath. She stands upright. “Let me fix your hands.” Emma holds out her bloodied palms, and Regina glances at them for a moment, before waving her hand. The pain and blood vanish.

  
  


“Thanks.” Emma looks at the guns on the ground. “So I guess Mjolnir one—”

  
  


The gun slams back into Emma’s hand, breaking her wrist. “Shit!” Emma screams, near tears. She drops the gun. “What the absolute fuck?!”

  
  


Henry stares at Emma in shock. “You sai—”

  
  


“ _Henry_ ,” Regina glares at him and he quiets. She waves her hand again and Emma’s wrist rights itself. “Emma pick up the guns, don’t say their names, just pick them up and give them to me.”

  
  


Emma gingerly hands the guns to Regina. “What are you going to do?”

  
  


“I’m going to fix these myself,” she mutters something under her breath, and the guns glow. “You’ll have to put the actual runes on them, but that should stop them from injuring anyone else tonight.”

  
  


“I thought injuring people was the point.” Emma smiles weakly.

  
  


“You know what I mean.” Regina glares, but softens when she notices Emma’s hands are still shaking. “They won’t hurt you again. I promise.”

  
  


Emma nods. “Should I try…calling them again?”

  
  


“If you’re ready.”

  
  


“I can do this.” Emma takes a deep breath. “Mjolnir one!” she calls. The gun flies from Regina’s hand to Emma’s, fitting itself softly into her palm. She grins. “It works!”

  
  


“Cool!” Henry stares at the gun. “Can we try them out? Like real magic?”

  
  


Regina looks around at the broken library, then waves her hand, returning it to it’s previous condition. “Not here. Maybe in the backyard.”

  
  


“Let’s go home then!”

  
  


<>

  
  


Cora watched her daughter sleep in the chair beside the window to her quarters. She had let Regina wallow in despair, allowed her to grieve the stable boy, granted her time to come to terms with her new marriage and all it would require. But soon Regina would need to wake and become attuned to her life in court, learn to do what was expected of her. Cora smiled as Regina whimpered in her sleep. She would teach her daughter to make her home in whatever castle could hold her, until all the lands fell at her feet.

  
  


<>

  
  


“Stay on the porch, Henry, I mean it.” Regina points and stares hard at her son, who pouts.

  
  


“How am I supposed to see what you’re doing if I have to stand all the way back here?” he whines.

  
  


“You’ll just have to squint.” She turns to Emma, who’s holding her guns in her hands. “Now, I want you to think very hard about what you want to do.”

  
  


“Uh yeah,” Emma bites her lip. “What exactly do I want to do?”

  
  


“I don’t know, shoot sparks or something,” Regina sighs and grasps Emma’s hand around the gun, pointing it towards the sky. “You only need a single thought to focus on. Magic is emotion, but I don’t expect you to get emotional about a small magic trick. Just think about what it will mean to you after you’ve worked so hard on it.”

  
  


“What are you doing?” Henry calls from the porch.

  
  


“You’ll have to wait and see.” Regina says and lets go of Emma’s hand, stepping away from her. “Focus, Emma.”

  
  


Emma stares at the dark night sky, lit up with stars. It’s been months since the time spell was cast, and most of the effects have been shitty. But Emma’s got a place to live, with David and Henry, her job doesn’t seem to be in jeopardy, and in this moment Regina seems…happy. She can’t remember when that actually began to _matter_ to her, but it does now. She glances at Regina who nods encouragingly. Regina’s become a friend and teacher, and though she wants to impress Henry with her magic trick, she also wants to make Regina proud. She takes a deep breath, and thinks of Henry’s laughter and the smile on Regina’s face when she pulls this off.

  
  


Her guns sputter for a moment then two big, red blasts of light shoot from them. They travel up into the night before bursting into tiny sparks taking away from the light of the stars.

  
  


“Cool! Emma, that’s so awesome!” Henry cheers from the back porch, leaning over the railing.

  
  


“ _Stay on the porch!_ ” Regina calls, staring up at the sparks, just as one of the branches of the apple tree catches fire. She rolls her eyes and waves her hand, putting it out.

  
  


“Well?” Emma asks, grinning.

  
  


Regina smiles proudly at her. “Good job. Now do it again.”

 

 


	6. If i shared your sorrow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: Rape, Forced Pregnancy, Blood, Injuries, Murder, Triggers, emotional abuse, death threat, implied abortion

Regina passed the first four months of her marriage in a fog.

  
  


She left her quarters only on the few occasions when the king stayed in the castle, to give him pained smiles across the dinner table. When he was away, she ate in her rooms, meals brought to her by servants. Her mother forced her to eat when all she wanted to do was lie down and never get up again.

  
  


She paid no mind to her condition at all, bathed when directed, ate when ordered, slept when the sunlight pierced her windows. She would collapse on a settee in her quarters, never in the bed the king provided.

  
  


And every moment she breathed, sorrow filled her lungs.

  
  


She spent four months as a ghost in a castle where she was queen, death in every breath. Her nights were dreamless only for lack of sleep.

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina wakes on a couch in her study, hair mussed. Across from her, Emma drools onto one of the spare pillows from the linen closet. Regina smirks before self-consciously checking the corners of her mouth for dried spit. Satisfied that she hasn’t picked up Emma’s habit of sleeping with her mouth open, she stands and goes to shower, already going over what has to be done for the day.

  
  


David will wake Henry, he seems to be the best at coaxing him out of bed. After her shower, she’ll make Henry a quick breakfast, then David will take him to school. Eventually Emma will wake up, and they’ll both head to work. At noon she’ll meet up with Dioba to discuss the time spell and have lunch. Then back to the office until Henry gets out of school. She’ll pick up Henry and head to the library. Dioba has to run after-school and Emma’s behind on paper work, as always, so she’ll likely be there with just him for a while. If she can keep him occupied and away from the grimoires, she can start adding Dioba’s translation of the most recent text to their currently compiled knowledge of the time spell. Come back to the mansion and help Emma channel her magic properly into the guns

  
  


Her day runs through her head, the schedule as precise as she can make it. She doesn’t know what she’ll have for lunch, or if the boys will behave, or even if she’ll make any headway in her work, but these unknown variables don’t bother her. The basis is there, she has things to do, and at night when the long day is over she has a home to come back to.

  
  


She sighs absently under the spray of hot water. If she’s going to keep making small changes to the town to ease the lives of her citizens, she’s going to need to balance the budget, yet again. She can take some out of her salary, David’s been paying for groceries and Emma’s been paying electricity, so she doesn’t need as much for upkeep on the mansion. There are a few funds she hasn’t yet tapped, and if she moves it all around carefully, she can continue improving the town for the better and by extension, the people’s view of her.

.

  
  


Though the water is still hot, she turns it off and steps out of the shower.

  
  


<>

  
  


The king threw a small early morning feast, invited only the royalty of South East Janus and Renart, though at first Regina didn’t know why. She stood beside him in the dining hall, gazing off into the distance as Leopold spoke.

  
  


“I wish to thank you for celebrating,” He placed a hand on Regina’s arm and she stiffened. “The sealing of the union between the queen and I.” His hand moved to her stomach.

  
  


Though the nobles were clapping, Regina heard a sound like thunder in her head.

  
  


How had she failed to _realize_. She took a deep shuddering breath as quietly as she could, eyes still glued to the wall.

  
  


<>

  
  


In his apartment, preparing for his day at the cannery, Sean Hermann blinks sharply and wonders at a newly remembered part of his childhood, one that had never before seemed so dark.

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina pauses in front of her mirror wearing only her bra and a pair of dress pants. Shaking fingers trace the small stretch marks across her stomach.

  
  


<>

  
  


Her breath came out in short gasps. She felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes, but she would not cry, she knew she could not cry, as she glanced at her mother who stared hard back at her from among the few faces seated around the tables. She cursed herself for not understanding sooner, not noticing her dresses growing tighter, not finding some way to kill the child before her mother knew.

  
  


Tears threatened the edge of her vision, but she did not cry, refused to cry, not in front of these people who would not understand her sorrow, would not understand why she didn’t celebrate the new life.

  
  


Not in front of her mother, who _knew_ but did not tell her, let her feel foolish and small in front of these royals, when decorum meant she could not cry.

  
  


<>

  
  


David is the first one to Regina, hearing the loud shatter of glass from Henry’s room, where he was attempting to drag the boy out of bed. He opens the door and stares.

  
  


Regina stands in the middle of her room, a swirling glass tornado surrounds her, spinning fast.

  
  


A few fragments whip towards him, and he slams the door shut just in time. “Emma!” he yells as he runs down the hallway towards Henry’s room, where the boy is still sleeping. He picks him up in a bridal carry and runs down the stairs, as Emma comes running up.

  
  


“David, what’s going on?” she asks frantically. “I heard something shatter—”

  
  


“It’s Regina. I don’t know what’s happening, but there was glass, and also, a tornado _inside the house_.” He shifts Henry in his arms. “I’m going to grab clothes for Henry from the hamper and take him for breakfast at Granny’s.” David rushes down the stairs. “You help Regina,” he yells behind him.

  
  


Emma runs the rest of the way up the stairs and down the hall, stopping outside Regina’s door. She can hear the tinkling of glass from inside the room as she pulls open the door.

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina smiled and kept her tears at bay as she accepted congratulations from Queen Charlotte of Renart, who held tight to the hand of her young son, Prince Thomas.

  
  


Duke Valerio touched her stomach and leered, as his spoiled and dangerous daughter, Princess Ariana grinned slyly behind him.

  
  


She glanced at a blank-faced Snow, sitting alone in a corner, likely sulking because she would no longer be an only child. Regina shuddered and dug her nails into her palms, as the room began to overwhelm her. Her eyes searched for her father, the only person in the castle who might have sympathy for her, share in her sorrow.

  
  


“Would you care to dance?” Prince Thomas asked her, holding out a hand and staring down at his feet.

  
  


“No, thank you.” She smiled as graciously as she could and prayed it did not look as pained as she felt. “I…” she looked around at all of the faces in the room, could not handle being made to feign happiness any longer. “I must go.” She fled the hall.

  
  


<>

  
  


“Regina?” Two pieces of glass scrape by Emma’s cheek. She slaps a hand over the stinging. “Ow! Fuck.” Her palm comes away bloody. She watches Regina standing in the center of the room, surrounded by quickly turning shards, staring at the wood behind the broken mirror. “Regina.”

  
  


Regina stares at the place where the glass used to be, where her reflection used to be, where everything she knew of herself once was. Everything Snow is slowly destroying. She takes in a heaving breath.

  
  


Emma calls again, softly. “Regina.” Not all of the glass is floating in the air, because her boots crunch over some as she slowly approaches the center of the room. “Hey. What happened?”

  
  


Tears in her eyes, Regina barely manages to tear her gaze away from the mirror backing. “I’m pregnant,” she says flatly, voice firm and cold.

  
  


“You’re what?” Emma asks, glancing down at Regina’s stomach, where she can just barely see gleaming stretch marks. “How—”

  
  


“How do you think?” Regina says sharply, and the glass fragments begin to spin quicker in the air. Blood drips from a cut on her hand. “In the past, your absolute _filth_ of a grandfather…he…” All the glass crashes to the floor, and it must be by some trick of self preservation that none of the shards impale Regina’s bare feet. “He raped me.”

  
  


Her words seem to echo in the room.

  
  


“Yes. He did.” Emma says.

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina hurried through the servants hallways of the castle, head down, avoiding the worried gazes of the serving staff, until she managed to find a room, no one coming in or out. She pressed her ear to the closed door. Silence.

  
  


Upon opening it she found that it was not empty at all.

  
  


Her father sat in an armchair, quietly crying into his hands.

  
  


<>

  
  


This is the first time Regina’s said it aloud. She wouldn’t talk about it and Emma didn’t know how to ask without pushing and now they’ve come to glass tornadoes, bleeding hands and faces, and children that never would have existed.

  
  


“I killed him for it. And many other things.” Regina’s eyes gleam. This is the end of home; the king’s death was _hers_ , and she won’t allow Emma to pry it from her, to tell her it wasn’t her choice, to tell her that she should feel sorry, she’ll lose home, but she’ll keep her triumph. “I don’t regret it.”

  
  


“I know.” Emma will not tell her how she should have saved herself. She’s read Henry’s book, knows the place she’s from, where all the rules were different and people killed to survive, lived like the still bodies they left behind them were only bridges to true love.

  
  


<>

  
  


Lord Henry smiled sadly at his daughter. “Been a while since I’ve seen you,” he said.

  
  


“It has been a while,” Regina answered stiffly. “Did you know?”

  
  


“Yes, but your mother thought it would be…best if you found out in your own time.”

  
  


Regina bit into her lip, but did not comment on her mother’s power over him. “Daddy, what’s wrong?” she asked instead, allowing a quiet sense of relief to flood through her, here at least was someone who would share with her the sorrow of this new life, the sorrow of the life she never wanted for herself.

  
  


He grimaced, grief plain on his face, tears sliding down his cheeks.

  
  


<>

  
  


“In the original timeline, when I…I would always get rid of them, I didn’t _want_ them.” Regina stares out the window. “My mother is still around, and things are different in the past.” She takes a shuddering gasp. “ _I’m_ different. I…I know I’m still angry, but I don’t have my magic.” She doesn’t have the one thing that _saved_ her during the worst times of her life, the thing that gave her purpose, a goal, a way out.

  
  


The glass in the window shatters, shards forming a new tornado, turning around Regina, fast, faster.

  
  


“This is your mother’s doing.” Regina says, voice like thunder mixing with the sound of tinkling glass in the room. “All of this, the first time and now, and if she had just been able to keep her mouth shut, to _listen_ , none of this…” She gasps sharply, nostrils flaring. “I will _never_ forgive her.”

  
  


Regina knows there are others to blame, her mother, the king himself, but their blame has always been in her mind, she _knows_ they’ve wronged her. Snow would have the world think that she’d done nothing wrong, that the results of her actions meant nothing, that Regina’s pain meant _nothing_.

  
  


<>

  
  


“Many things are wrong,” her father said, his voice shaking. She remained on the far side of the room, in front of the closed door. He held out his hand. “Come here, Regina.”

  
  


She walked to her father and stood in front of him, staring down at the top of his bowed head. He took her smaller hands in his.

  
  


His voice heaved and he sobbed as he spoke. “Duke Valerio has informed me that my brother Prince Tomas and my nephew Prince Giacomo have died suddenly.” Regina’s grief was quickly overtaken by anger, but she stifled the scream of rage in her throat and nodded stiffly.

  
  


“My condolences, father.”

  
  


“Regina.” He smiled at her, tears running down the lines in his face, older than he looked. “My father had us formally exiled when we left Ataecina. But I know you remember your time there.”

  
  


“I do, father.” She did not remember her uncle, could not recall his face, but she could remember Giacomo, who would follow her around, tugging at her skirts and begging to play with his older cousins. She remembered him, but would not grieve his death, could not take any more sorrow, would not be burdened any more. The weight growing in her stomach was enough.

  
  


“I was a prince, the youngest. You had uncles and aunts and cousins there, who would have stood with me in protecting you from...this.” He waved his hand at her stomach. “I am alone here. But I still should have protected you.”

  
  


A voice in the back of her mind told her this was not enough, his regret over his silence, his stillness did not evaporate the child growing in her stomach.

  
  


“Yes. You should have,” she said quietly, coldly. She would not have him speak to her of how alone he felt, not when she’d stood in front of nobles who thought themselves higher born than she, the last to know that she had had motherhood forced on her again.

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


“You don’t have to forgive her.” Emma says, moving slowly towards Regina. “Make the glass stop turning, please?” She asks softly. Regina flexes her fist and the glass drops to the ground. “Do you want to talk—”

  
  


“I’ve worked through this.” Regina snarls. “I’ve made my peace with it. I killed the man who harmed me and I was sure it was over and done with, only my memories left, but now—” She laughs bitterly, hysterically. “Your _mother_ is bringing it all back.” There are not enough words in the world to say how much Regina loathes Snow, her heart simply cannot hold the hatred swirling inside, not when it seeps into her blood and bones. She grasps her chest, feels her heart beating inside, and thinks of the other times when the best place for it seemed to be a box in the mausoleum, with the rest of her love.

  
  


“Okay, wait.” Emma sees where Regina’s hand is reaching, sees the desperation in her eyes, wide and staring at a life left forty years in the past. “What did you do…the first time around?”

  
  


“I murdered him.” Regina flexes her fist, the one she uses for magic, the one she taught to save her life. “But I can’t know if I’ll do so again, your mother could make it so I never murder her father and Emma…” She smiles, tears running down her cheeks. “I _can’t_ be married to him. I can’t, I won’t spend the next six years of my life like this. Not again.” She sticks her hand inside her chest.

  
  


“You don’t have to! I can take away your memories, I can make you forget—”

  
  


“My memories aren’t attacking me!” Regina shrieks, her breath shallow, coming in sharp pained gasps. “Your last memory spell hasn’t worn off, this isn’t the time spell forcing these memories on me, this is what I _know_ , this is what I buried, and I…the first time, I had no one and I just wanted it to stop, I wanted him dead, I wanted his kingdom and all he took from me and I became…I _can’t_ —” She rips her beating heart from her chest, a glowing organ, red and patchy black. Her face slackens and her eyes dull.

  
  


“Regina!”

  
  


<>

  
  


“Why didn’t you stop them?” Regina asked, finally allowing the tears to run down her face.

  
  


“I was afraid,” her father said, shame and guilt in his eyes, as he gazed at his daughter and grandchild, the culmination of a life spent with his hands at his sides.

  
  


Regina nodded. “There was nothing you could do.”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“There is nowhere I can run, and no land that could hold me.” She stilled her breathing, came to terms with the truth in her mother’s words. “All who might love me will only suffer. I should not be loved.”

  
  


<>

  
  


“Do you see this?” Regina asks, her voice hard and flat as she points to a black spot on her heart. “This is likely because I murdered the king.” She turns it over in her hands. “Or perhaps it’s this one.” She smiles and it’s not a smile, not a smile at all, her facial muscles make a mockery of any happiness she has ever felt. “I’m sure my heart darkened when I killed him.”

  
  


Emma stares at the heart. “Regina,” she says fearfully, because hearts should not live outside of chests, and Regina’s face is dull and blank, and all the life that should be there is pulsing in her hand. “Maybe you should put that back in.”

  
  


“Why?” Regina smiles wider, and it’s like there’s nothing there, the grief and anger are gone, but she’s unrecognizable. “I feel…nothing now.” She waves her hand and the glass reappears in the mirror and the window, though the hand holding the heart still drips blood. “The memories are still there, the _knowing_ but…I’m not angry.”

  
  


“You can be angry.”

  
  


Regina stares at Emma. “The last time I was this angry, I killed him, and darkened my heart because of it. I have no desire to…go back to that place. I will not. I need to break the time spell, and be the mayor of this town, and above all a mother to Henry,” Her heart pulses red, but she doesn’t notice. “,and I can’t do that if I allow my heart to darken more, if I’m angry.”

  
  


“I don’t think killing him made your heart like that,” Emma says softly.

  
  


“Then why is it so dark?” Regina smirks.

  
  


“Maybe the murders after, or the dark curse, or I don’t know, anything like that. But,” She looks Regina in the eye and steps closer. “,I don’t think your heart would have darkened for killing him. Magic…it _can’t_ work like that. You…he shouldn’t have hurt you, and you made him stop. Your heart wouldn’t have darkened because you killed him.” She takes a deep breath. “I killed Maleficent to save Henry…this town is full of people who…won by killing someone else.”

  
  


Regina raises her eyebrows. “Are you saying I was right to kill him? Emma, I’m not good, we’ve discussed this.” She’s made her decision to make amends, and if that means her anger is nothing, she can do it.

  
  


“Yeah, you’re not. But look,” She points to the heart held in Regina’s hand. “It’s still red, kinda black, but there’s still red there. You’re not good, but you’re not bad. And you _won’t_ become like you were. You’re not alone this time, and the memories…they’ll always be there, but you can...”

  
  


“I can what?” Regina snarls at Emma, tired of humoring her. “My entire past has been colored by this. I was different before I married the king, before your mother told mine about Daniel. I could _love_ and it was easy. But what I had to do after darkened my heart…it _ruined_ me.”

  
  


“You’re not ruined, Regina.” Emma haltingly touches Regina’s hand, sticky with drying blood, she feels the heart throbbing, strong. “Your heart is still red in some places, see?” She points. “Like here. That’s you raising Henry.” Regina jerks back her hand.

  
  


“Don’t bring him into this,” she says coldly. She’s taken out her heart so she can be a mother to him, and ignores the voice in the back of her mind that asks her if her mother was really a mother to her without her heart, intent is everything, and her intent is to be _good_. She can’t allow her heart to rule her, let the rage pollute her life.

  
  


“That’s not what I meant, I’m sorry.” Emma holds up her hands. “I meant that that’s the love you have for him. That’s…this happened and it hurt you, and you killed, but you loved again. You have loved, you do love, you _can_ love and…you can get through this. But…” She pushes Regina’s hand towards her chest. “You probably need a heart to do it.”

  
  


Regina stares at her heart then at Emma. “I will be angry.”

  
  


“Yes. You can be angry. And you can still love.”

  
  


“And if I—”

  
  


“You won’t. You know who you don’t want to be, what you don’t want to do.”

  
  


“What will you do if I become that person again?”

  
  


Emma looks her in the eye. “I’ll help you get back. You can come back.”

  
  


Regina doesn’t know if she believes her, doesn’t know if she can be healed with the anger she has felt beating against the inside of her chest, a reminder of the time when she was a queen without a land. But Emma has slept across from her on a couch in the study though it hurts her back, has been the face she’s woken up to when her dreams take her to a bed she could never sleep in, and has told the town she’s to be trusted.

  
  


A bitter voice in the back of her mind tells her Emma is only the savior fulfilling a destiny. She looks at Emma’s earnest face and thinks on what she has done to earn that trust, Emma’s belief that she will rise if she should fall.

  
  


She’s done it before. For almost a decade, her name was Mommy and she loved and was loved like her past did not define her. She can have that home again.

  
  


Regina gasps as she pushes her heart back into her chest.

  
  


<>

  
  


“Regina.” Her father opened his arms and she allowed herself to be held. He knew his love had never saved her, but it was always there and if she had was his regrets she would make do. “I love you. Trust that you should be loved, you are worthy of love.” He kissed the top of her head, tears wetting her hair. “This is not what I wanted for you. This is not…happiness.” She cried in his arms.

  
  


“Daddy, I’m not happy,” she whispered.

  
  


“I know.”

  
  


“I don’t know what to do.”

  
  


“Neither do I,” he said softly.

  
  


<>

  
  


The heart is in Regina’s chest and the grief returns to her eyes. Still wearing only her bra and pants, she shivers and wraps her arms around herself.

  
  


“Do you want me to get you a shirt or something?” Emma asks, walking to the closet, stepping carefully around the glass and pulls the first sweater she sees off the hanger, handing it to Regina, who pulls it over her head, hiding the barely there stretch marks.

  
  


“What do you want to do?” Emma asks softly.

  
  


“I…” Regina looks at her hand. “I want to clean off this blood.”

  
  


“Okay.”

  
  


Regina heads to her bathroom before she turns around and glances at Emma. “There’s some on your face.”

  
  


Emma presses a hand to her cheek and it comes away red. “Yeah.”

  
  


“Come with me.”

  
  


They walk to the bathroom. Emma sits on the toilet lid, and Regina opens the medicine cabinet with her uninjured hand, pulling out the rubbing alcohol, medical tape and gauze, before sitting on the edge of the tub, placing the things she grabbed beside her. She reaches for Emma who shakes her head.

  
  


“You first.”

  
  


Regina holds her hand in front of her, palm up, and Emma sees how long the cut is, it runs from the bottom of her index finger almost to her wrist, the blood already beginning to congeal. “Do you know why the king could…rape me, and no one said a word? Regina asks softly, bitterly, still staring at her palm.

  
  


Emma knows. “Tell me,” she says.

  
  


“Because my mother…” Regina flexes her hand into a fist, she’s not ready to talk about her mother and all she has done. “My father didn’t stop him. Ataecina was so far from Galabond and all of his nobles…They saw nothing wrong with it. I was not one of them…was not from where they were from. I wasn’t their child to protect, to them I wasn’t a child at all.” She grits her teeth. “There were no words for what he did in the old world. It was his right, it was my duty and I…” She pauses and clenches her fist harder, blood leaks from the sides as the cut reopens. “I couldn’t say no. And no one thought it was wrong.” She takes a shuddering breath.

  
  


“It was wrong.” Emma says. “You’re bleeding.”

  
  


“Thank you for pointing out the obvious, I wasn’t sure.” Regina’s tone lacks it’s usual snideness. She spins the cap on the rubbing alcohol with her uninjured hand, then upends it over the cut. Emma winces empathetically, knows that soon she’ll feel that burn.

  
  


“Can’t you heal it with magic?” She asks.

  
  


“Yes.” Regina takes the gauze and clears away the excess alcohol. “But I want it to scar. ” She balls up the bloodied gauze and lays it beside her on the tub, before getting clean gauze and placing it over the cut. “To remind me.” She wants to be reminded of all she has to hate, all she has to do, and all she’s ever loved.

  
  


“Will it scar? I mean, with the time spell.”

  
  


“I believe so.” She answers absently as she puts medical tape over the gauze to hold it in place. “We won’t age, but any changes made during our time now in Storybrooke, that aren’t a direct result of changes in the past, those stay, if Snow chooses not to cement the changes to the original timeline.” She holds up her bandaged hand,

  
  


“I don’t get it.”

  
  


Regina places a careful hand over her stomach, but won’t touch it, can’t touch it. “If Snow decides to keep the original timeline, these…stretch marks will disappear. But the scar on my hand won’t. One is a result of the changed timeline, the other is the result of our time here.” She stares directly into Emma’s eyes. “I will never forgive your mother, for what she did before and what she’s doing now.”

  
  


“I know.” Emma ignores her own feelings about Snow, this is about Regina and what she needs. “ You never have to.”

  
  


“This is twice now that she’s caused me to become a mother against my will.” Regina feels the need to flex her fist, but doesn’t, won’t reopen the wound. “I loathe her.” She tastes bitterness in her mouth, swallows and breathes. She is here and Snow is not and any new forms of revenge will have to wait.

  
  


“What happens…what happens with the baby?” Emma stares at the wall, to avoid looking at Regina’s stomach. “Will it appear in Storybrooke?”

  
  


“I don’t know.” Regina wets some gauze with alcohol, then holds it out to Emma’s face. “I need to disinfect that before I heal it.”

  
  


Emma leans forward and hisses as the alcohol stings her face. Regina pulls back and then waves her hand. The skin on Emma’s cheek is smooth again. Regina stares at her for a moment. “I don’t want anyone else to know.”

  
  


“I won’t tell anyone.”

  
  


Regina nods. They sit in silence for a few moments. “I’m not going in to work today.”

  
  


“Okay. I can call your office.”

  
  


“I was supposed to meet Dioba for lunch and pick up Henry after-school.” Regina’s eyes widen. “Henry—”

  
  


“David took him to school already. He’s fine. He was still sleeping when they left. And I’ll call Dioba and tell her you can’t meet her today.”

  
  


A ghost of a smile crosses Regina’s face. She begins to stand, but feels light-headed almost immediately. Emma grabs her elbow. “I’m fine.” She says, but doesn’t shake Emma off.

  
  


“You lost some blood, and you haven’t eaten breakfast. I can make some—”

  
  


“I’d rather not be poisoned on top of everything else.” Cooking soothes Regina, it’s something she’s learned, something she mastered during her years in Storybrooke, it’s taking what she has and making it into something new, and…she nods firmly at Emma. “I’ll cook.”

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


Cora burst into the room where Regina and her father were sharing solace, nostrils flaring. Henry’s grip on his daughter tightened protectively for a moment, then loosened in acceptance of the defeat he’d conceded long before.

  
  


“You must accept your congratulations, Regina. You cannot continue to be so rude.”

  
  


Regina wiped her eyes, barely managing not to glare, she did not need her mother’s wrath.

  
  


“I’m coming.” She removed herself, her comfort gone, and began to leave the room. Her mother grabbed her arm.

  
  


“Clean yourself up first. You must look respectable, dear.”

  
  


“Yes, Mother.” Regina left the room.

  
  


Cora scowled at her husband. “You coddle her.” She followed Regina, slamming the door behind her.

  
  


<>

  
  


  
  


Regina’s adding the ham to her omelet and Emma’s pouring herself a bowl of cereal when the doorbell rings.

  
  


“I’ve got it.” Emma says.

  
  


“No.” Regina turns off the stove. “I know who it is.”

  
  


“But your omelet—” Emma points to the pan.

  
  


“I can make another.”

  
  


She begins to leave the kitchen but glances at Emma, who puts down the box of cereal and follows Regina to the front door, standing aside as she pulls it open.

  
  


On the other side stands Sean Hermann, scratching the side of his head, he stops when the door opens. “Hey, Madame Mayor…Sheriff Swan.”

  
  


“Mr. Hermann.”

  
  


“Hey, Sean. What’s up?”

  
  


“Uh…” Sean fidgets glancing at Regina then looking down. “I woke up this morning and I think…” He rubs the back of his neck, this is the mayor’s house, and if what he remembers is true…he shivers. “I think I’m doing the memory thing? You know, the time spell?”

  
  


“Yes, Mr. Hermann. We do know about the time spell.” Regina says dryly.

  
  


He looks at her and smiles uneasily. “Yeah, I guess you do.”

  
  


Emma leans against the doorjamb, folding her arms across her chest. “So…what are you remembering?” She glances at Regina, she wanted to keep this quiet and if someone else knows now, then the whole town might know by lunch.

  
  


“There was…a breakfast meeting thing? I don’t know I was a kid.” He looks at Emma earnestly. “You said there was something you could do? So I don’t remember anymore?” He has a life here in Storybrooke, a fiance and a daughter and they both mean the world to him. Growing up in Storybrooke he read of knights and battles and wished he’d been there, but now he knows he held a sword soaked in blood, held it aloft with pride, he remembers things like this that he can only regret now, in this world his conscience…it’s different.

  
  


“Uh yeah,” Emma sniffs, embarrassed. “It’s a kiss.”

  
  


Sean stares at her. “You can’t kiss me, I have a fiance.” Regina rolls her eyes and Emma shifts awkwardly.

  
  


“Well see, it’s a sorta kiss—”

  
  


“I can do it.” Regina says. “Without kissing you.”

  
  


“Uh yeah.” Sean nods. “I’d rather not chance a kiss, Alexandra’s just started sleeping into the night, and Ashley’s not as stressed and I don’t wanna mess things up, and you probably don’t care, sorry.”

  
  


Regina nods. “I really don’t.” She holds up her uninjured hand to do the spell, but Sean stops her.

  
  


“Will this take away…all my memories? Or…?”

  
  


“No. It will only stop your new ones from resurfacing.” She looks at him. “You’re not to breathe a word to anyone about what you’re remembering.”

  
  


Sean nods again. He remembers the time when he fought someone to the death and was cheered, and he thinks of all this world’s history, the things he remembers reading in school. He _remembers_ growing up in Storybrooke and feeling bad about all the things the people who were his grandfathers had done, he remembers thinking _I could never be like that_ , that was his salvation as he scratched his sun-burnt skin during his boyhood spent in Storybrooke. But he remembers blood and the sword and thinks of the enchanted forest and what his father’s death would have made him, and the young girl who looked like she was crying as she ran from his outstretched hand.

  
  


“I’m sorry,” he says.

  
  


Regina sneers. “Your guilt means nothing to me, I have no time for your apologies. If you’ve nothing more to give me you’ll find that your memories become much more…burdensome. ”

  
  


“I promise.”

  
  


“What’s a promise worth to a prince?” she scoffs.

  
  


“You have my _word_ as a…” Not a prince, ordered by his mother to dance with the queen, the too young queen, who’s smile before she fled his outstretched hand couldn’t hide her grief. “As a father.” This is the most important thing to him now, before it was his honor as a prince, and now it’s his duty as a father.

  
  


Regina stares. In her memories her father never stopped them, never saved her, only told her he loved her as he stood watching. There was only one time when he helped her, and she remembers how her father died, the last hug he ever gave her, what she received in exchange for his life.

  
  


“Does she mean more than your life?” she asks, eyes calculating.

  
  


“Yes.” Sean says firmly.

  
  


“Then you’ll make a blood pact. Your life is forfeit if you fail me.” Regina will be as ruthless as she needs to be to protect herself. “ And your daughter will spend hers without a father to protect her. Is that clear?”

  
  


He looks Regina directly in the eyes and nods. “Yes,” he says.

  
  


Emma balks but stays silent. There are rules here she doesn’t know, past crimes she can’t comment on, Sean’s fate is in his own hands.

  
  


She mutters something under her breath and waves her hand over his face. Sean’s shoulders relax as his memories of that morning fade. It was Rumplestiltskin that imprisoned him and he would have stayed that way if the dark curse hadn’t been cast by the mayor, and he would have lost his daughter if the sheriff hadn’t taken on Ashley’s debt. He’ll add this secret to one of the many shames of Storybrooke and never speak of it again.

  
  


“Thank you.” He says, backing away from the door, he may be Sean from Storybrooke, but he was also Prince Thomas and then he knew to never turn your back on those who might harm you and those who have helped you, and he knows that now.

  
  


The women watch him back down the porch stairs, down the front path, and once he’s past the bushes he’s running. He’ll go to Granny’s where Ashley will have Alexandra during her shift, he’ll skip work, they’ll make up the money somehow, and he’ll take his daughter home and hold her in his arms and be glad that he is here, he’s _here_.

  
  


“Did you really make a blood pact?” Emma asks quietly.

  
  


“No. But I _will_ come for him if he fails me.” Regina enters her home.

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


In the silence of the room in the castle where his daughter was queen, Lord Henry wept.

  
  


<>

  
  


Back in the kitchen, Regina pours the egg into the pan as Emma leans against the counter, watching her.

  
  


“What do you wanna do now?” She asks, because this is Regina’s day.

  
  


The egg looks like it might begin to stick to the pan. Regina focuses on her omelet, wonders if she actually feels like scrambled eggs for breakfast, she doesn’t know what she wants to do, but she does know what needs to be done.

  
  


“I have some of my notes on the time spell here, not all of them, but I think enough.”

  
  


Emma stares. “Don’t you want to take a break?”

  
  


“I need to work on the time spell.” Regina sighs in frustration, the egg is definitely sticking to the pan.

  
  


“You don’t need to do it now, today. You can take a break.”

  
  


Regina stares at Emma for a moment. “It is my job as mayor, and my responsibility to fix this as soon as possible. The only reason there aren’t angry mobs at my door is because I’m working to fix the time spell with you.”

  
  


“You’re not just the mayor, and it’s my responsibility too. And the town won’t attack if you take a break for one day.”

  
  


Turning back to look at the pan, Regina gives up on the omelet and begins to scramble the eggs. “And suppose I need more than a day?” She asks quietly.

  
  


“Then you take as long as you want…the only person who’ll know you’re not working on the time spell from home is Dioba. And I think she’ll be okay if you take a break.”

  
  


“Alright.”

  
  


“What do you want to—” Emma begins to asks, but then her phone rings, she smiles apologetically at Regina. “Hello?”

  
  


“Emma, it’s David, are you and Regina okay?”

  
  


She glances at Regina who tilts her head. She mouths David’s name and Regina nods.

  
  


“Uh, yeah. We’re both fine.”

  
  


“Okay, good. Henry’s refusing to go to school until he talks to Regina, can you put her on?”

  
  


“Sure, hold on.” Emma holds the phone out to Regina. “Henry wants to talk to you.” She looks at Regina’s hand, then at the one holding the spatula. “Maybe we should switch?”

  
  


Regina smirks. “Maybe.” Emma takes the spatula from her, handing her the phone. She puts the phone to her hear, and hears Henry’s earnest voice almost immediately.

  
  


“Mom, are you okay? I heard glass shattering but then I went back to sleep, and I woke up in grandpa’s car.”

  
  


“I’m fin—” She stops herself. “I’ve cut my hand on some glass, but I’ll be okay.”

  
  


“Are you sure?” Henry asks, worry in his voice. She thinks she’ll be okay, feels it in her bones.

  
  


“Yes. It may scar, but it will heal.” She glances at Emma, who’s scrambling the eggs in the pan, tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth.

  
  


“Should I come home?”

  
  


Regina rolls her eyes. “No, you’re going to school.”

  
  


“But, Mom—” This is the child she _chose_. She takes a deep breath and does not regret the heart in her chest.

  
  


“Eat your breakfast, and David will drop you off at school.”

  
  


Henry groans. “Okay. I love you, Mom.”

  
  


“I love you too, sweetheart. Put David back on the line.” There’s a pause.

  
  


“Regina?”

  
  


“Yes. Can you pick up Henry after school, and drop him off at home?”

  
  


“Yeah, no problem.”

  
  


Regina doesn’t want to express gratitude to him, not when she’s been reminded of Snow and by extension his attachment to her. But David carried Henry out of possible danger, without hesitation, and she _is_ grateful for that. “…thank you.”

  
  


“Uh, yeah. I’ve got to go, food’s here. Bye.”

  
  


She hangs up the phone.

  
  


Emma turns off the stove, eggs cooked to her satisfaction and hopefully Regina’s.

  
  


Regina stares off into the distance a small, sad smile on her face. Emma glances at her and her heart races a bit. Regina’s smile looks a little like the sun coming out.

  
  


<>

  
  


“What do you want to do?” Emma asks as they sit at the dining room table, eating their rapidly disappearing breakfast.

  
  


“I…I don’t want to think about the time spell, or the possible child or…those parts of my past. Not right now.” Regina says quietly.

  
  


“We could watch something? In the den?” Emma’s spoon clinks against the bowl, and once Regina’s not paying attention she’s going to drink all the sugar flavored milk.

  
  


Regina nods. After Emma’s done the dishes, they walk to the den.

  
  


“What do you wanna watch?” Emma asks, glancing at the stack of DVDs.

  
  


Regina shrugs from her place on the couch, absently staring out the window. “Whatever is in the DVD player will be fine.”

  
  


Emma nods and turns on the tv, grabbing the remote. The DVD menu for disc one of season one of a Justice League cartoon plays.

  
  


“This must be from the last time Diarra was here.” Regina smiles, fondly remembering watching her son and his friend. “He and Henry were assigning characters from the extended universe to people in town.”

  
  


Emma grins. “Oh yeah? Who were we?”

  
  


“Diarra thinks you’re Harley Quinn and I’m Poison Ivy, but Henry insists I’m Wonder Woman and you’re Hawk Girl.”

  
  


“Who do you think we are?” Emma asks, smiling.

  
  


Regina pauses. “I suppose I might be an amalgamation of Robin and Raven from the 2003 cartoon series. And you—” She smirks. “You would be some strange mutation of Cyborg and Beast Boy, which is possible in that canon.” Emma stares. “I _am_ the mother of a ten year old. Teen Titans was his…starter series.” She skipped over the episodes with Terra and especially Slade, they reminded her too much of her past and Henry didn’t need to know that, not then, hopefully not ever.

  
  


“So you knew about comic books before you adopted him?” Emma raises her eyebrows and Regina rolls her eyes.

  
  


“Just push play.”

  
  


At the beginning of the episode, they sit on the couch, a space between them. Emma’s hand is placed absently in the space between them. When the episode is over, they stare at the screen for a moment.

  
  


“Another?” Emma asks.

  
  


Regina nods. By the fourth episode, her hand is lightly grazing Emma’s on the space between them on the couch, she needs the touch, the grounding.

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


That night, when Regina wakes from a dream of blood stained sheets and relentless shrieking, it’s Emma’s voice that calls her to the present. Their eyes connect in the dark and she grasps Emma’s hand, holding tight to where she is, when she is, her past may change, but she’s lived it and she’s still alive, still _here_ in the study, heartbeat slowing it’s rapid pace in her chest.

 

 


	7. Take a deep breath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: Forced Pregnancy, triggers, marital rape, breakdown, fire, violence, guns, blood mention, emotional abuse, slight changes made 4/21/14

It’s been a week since Regina’s glass tornado and she hasn’t spoken about the baby once. Emma has tried to bring it up, but all she got in return for her question was a blank stare, a raised eyebrow, and Regina insisting on watching War Horse _again_ , and while it’s probably a comforting movie, it’s probably also some form of punishment. She’s considering the possibility that Regina has wiped the fact that she’s pregnant in the past from her mind entirely until one night when they’re watching the Black Stallion _again_.

  
  


Regina blinks hard. “Emma, I need you to kiss me,” she says firmly.

  
  


Emma looks away from the screen, and Regina’s staring at her, eyes frighteningly wide. “Okay.” She quickly leans over and plants a firm kiss on Regina’s cheek. “What was that about?” she asks.

  
  


“My dresses no longer fit,” Regina says quietly, standing up.

  
  


“Where are you going?”

  
  


“To see Henry,” is all Regina says before she leaves the room. “You don’t need to follow,” she calls behind her.

  
  


Emma finds them early into the next morning, Regina sitting up in Henry’s bed, with him curled up asleep in her lap, her eyes closed, cheek pressed into the top of his head, softly singing a nursery rhyme into his hair. Her voice is low and raspy, and cracks slightly on the high notes, but Emma stays in the doorway listening.

  
  


“And how did he learn to read and write,” Regina sings. “Among all of his toil?”

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


Early in the morning, Leopold strode into Regina’s quarters. She slept in a chair by the window, her bed left empty. He stood next to her and watched her slow breathing for a moment before speaking. “Regina.”

  
  


She jolted and stared at the king towering over her, eyes wide. Her breath caught in her throat as she struggled to breathe normally, to show him no fear. “My king,” she said, her voice shaking.

  
  


“Calm yourself. It’s not good for the child.” Leopold crouched next to her, placing a hand on her slightly swollen abdomen. “Are you well?”

  
  


“Yes, my king.” She tried not to flinch away from him.

  
  


“We are married, you may call me by my name.”

  
  


“Yes, Leopold.” The king nodded.

  
  


“I came to inform you that I will be leaving this morning for Renart.”

  
  


“Am I to accompany you?” she asked, heart lifting slightly at the prospect of getting out of the castle, out of Galabond, away from her mother, of finding some way to run and never return, while she still could.

  
  


Leopold paused. “No. I think it might be best if your condition was kept…a secret. At least until you are more progressed.”

  
  


Regina tamped down the joy that had risen in her chest. “How long will you be gone?”

  
  


“A fortnight if the travel is good. I have some business to conduct. The princess will come with me.” The king smiled at her and stood. “Your mother and lady-in-waiting will look after you while I am gone. If you tell them what you should like to say to me, they will write letters for you.”

  
  


“Letters?”

  
  


“Yes.” He looked at her closely. “Your mother has informed me that you cannot read or write. That is true is it not?”

  
  


Her early schooling in Ataecina had included the learning of letters, and her mother had kidnapped a tutor after they fled. But if her mother wished to lead the king astray in that respect, then she would as well. “It is true.”

  
  


“It is nothing to be ashamed of. Many lower nobles never learn to read, and as queen you are not required. I shall look forward to your missives.” She nodded and he leaned down to kiss her on the lips as she held herself stiff. The king frowned. “It would be best if you were to…become accustomed to your role as queen.”

  
  


“I shall.”

  
  


“Good.” He looked hard at her. “You do understand that this is your home from now on, do you not?”

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


Emma wakes up alone on a couch in the den on Saturday morning; she fell asleep next to Regina while watching yet another movie with the word Stallion in the title. In the two weeks since Regina ripped her heart out and decided to take a sabbatical from work, they’ve managed to watch all of the Justice League cartoons, all of Barefoot Contessa, and now they’re watching horse movies, apparently all of the horse movies that have ever been made. Emma smacks her lips to clear the taste of cotton from her tongue and heads to the kitchen, just as David comes stalking out.

  
  


“Emma,” he growls, holding a cup of coffee. “Regina is demanding that I go back to the grocery store this morning, even though I went last night.”

  
  


“Why?” Emma yawns and runs a hand through her mussed hair. She would take David’s coffee if she didn’t know for certain that whatever he puts in it makes it taste awful.

  
  


“For cheese. She wants gruyere. That’s ten dollars. I’m not paying that.”

  
  


“Yeah, that’s kind of expensive. What kind did you get instead?”

  
  


“Kraft singles,” he says, folding his arms over his chest.

  
  


Emma stares at him for a moment. “I don’t think that’s gonna cut it.”

  
  


“You don’t have to cut them, Emma, they’re precut. That’s why they’re good.”

  
  


Emma groans. “I’ll talk to her, but you know she’s not making you pay rent. All you’ve got to pay is groceries.”

  
  


David shakes his head. “It’s the principle, Emma. I’m gonna go on shift. Tell me if you manage to convince her.”

  
  


“Wait, why do I have to do it?”

  
  


“You’re…pretty close right?” Emma stares at him. “I mean, as friends?” He flushes, embarrassed. “I’m not judging…I’m gonna go. Here,” David hands Emma his cup of coffee. “You look tired.” He walks away from her, glancing over his shoulder. “If you ever wanna talk about…you know…I’m your dad.”

  
  


Emma nods as he closes the door. They’ve been in Regina’s house for almost five months, and it’s just hitting her that she’s _living_ with Regina. She wanders into the kitchen, trying to convince herself that she didn’t u-haul with her at the first opportunity. “Hey, David said—”

  
  


“If your father has asked you to persuade me to change my mind about the gruyere, then you can walk right back out.” Regina snaps from the counter where she’s making coffee.

  
  


“I mean, he did say it was the principle of the thing, and the cheese is expensive.”

  
  


Regina turns and glares. “I’m already cutting out half my spices for—” Her nostrils flare. “How do you expect me to make macaroni and cheese with _kraft singles_? And it’s not the principle of the thing, if it were, he would stop buying goat milk for his coffee, in addition to the whole.”

  
  


Emma spits out her mouthful of coffee. “Jesus, is that what he puts in it?”

  
  


Regina smirks and nods, handing Emma a different cup. “Yes. Every morning.”

  
  


Dumping out David’s coffee and taking a sip of the one Regina made for her, Emma smiles. “Thanks. I’ll talk to him.” She looks around the kitchen. “Where’s Henry?”

  
  


“Still sleeping. He wants to go to the library later today.” Regina sighs and puts down her coffee. She should go back to the library, should keep working on the time spell, she needs to figure out what to do about the fact that she’s going to be a mother again, or before, or however she’s supposed to think of it, she hasn’t wanted to think about it. But it’s been nice, doing nothing at all. It’s been a week of intermittent nightmares, but there’s a hand to hold when she wakes up and needs to be reminded where she is. Who she is. She’s the mayor of Storybrooke, the caster of both the dark curse and the time spell, Henry’s mother, and Emma’s…friend.

  
  


“Okay, once he wakes up, I can drop him off. There’s a book I need to pick up anyway.” Emma takes another sip of coffee, smiling into her cup.

  
  


“Thank you.” Regina says, grateful to Emma for being the friend that makes her feel less burdened by…everything.

  
  


“Uh yeah.” Emma shrugs nonchalantly. “So, I was also thinking of hiring August on as a deputy.”

  
  


“That stack of wood? He’s a fire hazard.”

  
  


“No, see, the blue fairy healed him…or something. Anyway, he’s fine now, flesh and bone. Would it be in the budget?” Emma hasn’t been at the station much these past few weeks, and though her deputies aren’t complaining, she knows she needs someone there to pick up the slack. At the very least August will likely get his incident reports in on time.

  
  


“I suppose I could tap the woodwork fund.”

  
  


“The woodwork fund.” She doesn’t understand how Regina keeps finding more and more money to throw at the town, or really how she’s keeping it running at all.

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“What is that even for?” Emma secretly believes that Regina has some kind of conspiracy map in her mausoleum, a bunch of different colored strings of yarn running from each of the randomly named funds.

  
  


“I don’t see why you need to know.” Regina smirks into her coffee. It was actually just the fund used in cases when the town needed upkeep, but now that she has her magic back she can do most of those little maintenances herself. But part of the fun in running the town is making the budget as incomprehensible as possible.

  
  


“Uh huh.” Emma glances at the kitchen clock. “I’m gonna go wake up Henry.”

  
  


“You do that.” Emma leaves the kitchen, placing her mostly finished coffee cup on the counter beside Regina. The cup is one Emma brought from the apartment, and it’s taken up residence in the cupboard. Emma is in Regina’s home. She’s in the bottles of shampoo made to give hair perfect curls, the extra loads of laundry done a day late, the unhealthy cereal Henry’s only allowed to have twice a week, and the second set of pillows in whichever room they sleep. Regina wonders when this temporary situation started to seem so permanent. She smiles and takes out a bowl for Henry’s cereal.

  
  


  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


Regina walks into the near-empty diner a bit before the lunch hour, making eye contact with Ashley before sitting down across from Dioba.

  
  


“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me,” Dioba says, smiling at her.

  
  


“Yes.” Regina sits down across from her. “What was it you wanted to talk about?”

  
  


“It’s been almost three weeks since you’ve been to the library,” Dioba says, getting straight to the point. “While I understand that you need your time, we do need to fix the time spell. Especially if the timeline isn’t right.” She sips her coffee. “You’re the one who knows the most. I can translate and postulate based on your notes, but I need your confirmation.”

  
  


“What can I get for you, Regina?” Ashley walks over to the table pulling out a pad of paper.

  
  


“Chicken Parmesan and a water will be fine.” She would order a red wine to go with her food, but she doesn’t want to get into the habit of drinking before noon and Granny’s only serves swill.

  
  


“I’ll be right back. “ Ashley goes to get her order and Regina turns back to Dioba.

  
  


“I know the time spell needs to be worked on, but there have been some major changes—”

  
  


“I know.” Dioba interrupts her.

  
  


“What?” Regina stares. “What could you possibly know?” If Sean told…she doesn’t want to kill him, doesn’t want to shatter the fragile peace the town has managed to maintain with Snow gone and her mother missing and incapacitated.

  
  


“A few weeks ago, I was looking through some of our history books, and I came across a family tree, of the royal family of Ataecina, and I noticed some changes.” Dioba says quietly. “ Your cousin Giacomo and uncle Tomas have died. And…before, I believe you were the last in Prince Henry’s line. But an unnamed spot has been added. Below you.”

  
  


Regina leans back in her seat, as nonchalantly as she can, crossing her arms over her chest. “Who else knows?”

  
  


“I mentioned it to my husband, and he confirmed my suspicions.”

  
  


“How is Balla?” Regina asks, eyes sharp.

  
  


“He’s well.” Dioba raises an eyebrow. “And hasn’t told anyone, and won’t tell anyone.”

  
  


“Why should I trust him?” Regina hisses, her heart rate quickening. She was beginning to think she and Dioba might manage to become friends.

  
  


“Do you trust me?” Dioba asks. Regina stays silent for a moment. Dioba saw past her misdeeds and helped her lonely son make a friend, his first playmate in years, and she’s reminded of that kindness every time she sees Henry laugh with Diarra like the little boys they are.

  
  


“I suppose I do.”

  
  


“We can repair the timeline, however you want to handle that.” Dioba reaches across the table, touching Regina’s hand. “But we won’t be able to if you can’t come back to the library.”

  
  


Regina takes a deep breath and nods. She can’t keep putting it off. She has to figure out what to do about the baby. “Very well. I would still like a while—”

  
  


“I just need you to tell me that you do plan on coming back.”

  
  


“I do.”

  
  


“Good.” Dioba nods. “I’ve finally managed to convince the woman I told you about. She has agreed to assist us.”

  
  


“Who is she?”

  
  


“Chelo Soto.”

  
  


Regina blinks in surprise. “I knew her during the dark curse. Her youngest son was Henry’s best friend in the second grade…we competed for head of the PTA that year.”

  
  


“Who won?”

  
  


“She did.” Regina sighs. “Who was she in the old world? I could never figure it out.”

  
  


“I believe she could be linked to the little old lady who lived in a shoe. But.” Dioba laughs quietly. “I don’t think she’s much like the woman in that nursery rhyme.” She looks at Regina appraisingly. “I don’t believe any of us are very similar to how we are portrayed in the stories that define us. Do you?”

  
  


<>

  
  


It’s noon and Emma sits in the chair next to August’s desk, going over his latest incident report.

  
  


“Okay, look, see right here?” Her tone is exasperated as she points to the paper. “There’s no way Sylvia Washington ‘gazed with luminous eyes at the hindrance in the avenue that would soon lead to her downfall’. That didn’t happen. That’s a lie, you can’t lie on your incident reports.”

  
  


“Sheriff.” August leans forward in his seat. “It’s not a lie. It’s adding a certain something to the narrative.”

  
  


“One: it’s not a narrative. Two: it’s lies. You’re adding lies. Three: What the hell is up with your vocabulary?”

  
  


Ruby and David snicker from their desks as August protests again. “You can’t expect me to write about yet another collision between someone’s car and a tree without adding theme or metaphor or _something_.”

  
  


“Here’s the thing, August, I don’t give a—”

  
  


Leroy bursts into the bullpen of the sheriff’s station. “I’ve got news!” he shouts, grinning widely.

  
  


Everyone glances up at him for a second before going back to their work. “Aren’t you supposed to be patrolling?” Ruby asks.

  
  


“I finished my patrol early.”

  
  


Emma groans. “Leroy, that’s not how it works—”

  
  


“Just ask me what the news is.” Leroy sits in the chair next to David’s desk.

  
  


“What’s the news?” David asks eagerly, anything to get away from the incredibly dull incident reports.

  
  


“So, there was a call about a homicide at the nunnery—”

  
  


“What?!” Emma stares at him. There hasn’t been a single murder in the five months since the time spell was cast, _not one murder_. “Fuck,” she mutters.

  
  


“Chill out, sister. It’s taken care of.” Leroy continues. “So, before I was interrupted, I was saying that I got a call about a homicide at the nunnery. I was already there—”

  
  


“What, were you flirting with Sister Astrid?” David nudges Leroy’s shoulder.

  
  


“ _No_.” Leroy shifts away. “Like a good Samaritan, I was helping out. You know, sweeping and stuff. And it’s none of your business if me and Nova _chatted_. Anyway, one of the nuns comes in and tells me they found a human head in the kitchen, in the mutton soup pot.”

  
  


“What? We have to get down there.” Emma stands.

  
  


“Hold on, I told you it was taken care of,” Leroy snaps. “Let me tell my story. So I go to the kitchen, and sure enough, there is an honest to god human head floating around in the soup. And the thing is, it was still blinking.”

  
  


“Holy shit,” Ruby says. “What happened, I mean—”

  
  


“ _Let me tell my story._ ” Leroy growls. “I go to call you guys, right, because I…do not want to investigate this shit alone. I mean, it’s been pretty quiet around town for a while now, hasn’t it?” The other deputies nod their heads in confirmation; part of what makes the incident reports so boring is the fact that mostly it’s traffic violations and minor public disturbances, both usually having to do with the trees in the road. “I’m pulling out my cell to ring the sheriff, when all of a sudden, Kate Crackernuts, you know her, she’s one of the nurses? Yeah, anyway she walks in and she’s dragging her sister, um, Anne Crackernuts? Anyway she’s got her sister behind her, but her sister’s head isn’t her head, it’s a sheep head.”

  
  


“That’s disgusting.” Emma looks like she might vomit.

  
  


“Yeah, pretty gross. Anyway, it turns out that Anne had opened the pot after mass, and her head got switched. Kate said it’s just something that happens. So it wasn’t a homicide and it’s all taken care of. But pretty weird, huh?”

  
  


“Was the sheep okay?” David asks; he hasn’t forgotten his roots as a shepherd.

  
  


“Yeah, what about the sheep?” Ruby has never forgotten her roots as a wolf.

  
  


“It’s probably dead.” Leroy shrugs. “It’ll make for an interesting incident report though.”

  
  


August who has been listening quietly the whole time suddenly leans forward, eyes wide. “Leroy, I would like it very much if you let me write that incident report.”

  
  


“Not a chance.” Emma mutters.

  
  


It’s not the last case with missing body parts. Less than three days, a woman loses one of her prosthetic silver hands. There’s a town-wide search that ends rather quickly, as it turns out her two year old son hid the hand in the ice cream aisle at Trader Jack’s. August writes the incident report and Emma finds herself having to wade through his ‘thematic’ lies.

  
  


_She looked about her, one silver hand lost to the cruel cold. “Has my son forsaken me?” she cried to the wind. “Can I still mother this child?”_

  
  


<>

  
  


  
  


Regina sits on a bench in the new playground while Henry swings. He has a stain on his shirt from spilling his lunch, but had wanted to come straight to the park instead of going home to change. She watches him fondly for a moment, then sighs. Tomorrow she has to go back to the library; it’s been too long since she’s worked on the time spell, more than a month, and she can’t put it off any longer.

  
  


“Regina.” Chelo Soto sits beside her, a short woman in her late thirties, sits next to her. She has brown skin and thick black hair tied back into a ponytail. “Been a while.”

  
  


“I suppose so.” Regina watches Julio Soto approach Henry, grinning and asking him a question.

  
  


“Haven’t seen you since Julio and Henry last played together. Must have been more than three years ago.” Chelo shifts and watches their sons. “I’m not sure about that though, considering the dark curse.”

  
  


Henry gets up from swing and Julio takes his place.

  
  


Regina swallows. “Has been a while.”

  
  


Henry begins to push the smaller boy, their mothers watching as Julio swings higher and higher.

  
  


Chelo turns to her and grins. “Not still bitter about the PTA, are you? That was years ago.”

  
  


Regina scowls. “I would have won the next year, once I learned how to beat you.” They had spent the year Henry was in the second grade locked in an underhanded competition for head of the PTA. Chelo had only just managed to win, after promising all the voting parents half-off on any children’s shoes bought at her shop, The Puss’ Boots, then had the second grade class publicly count the ballots at the end of the year program, to prevent any cheating.

  
  


“You didn’t run the next year. Why?”

  
  


Regina breathes deeply through her nose, recalling the time when everything began to go wrong. “Henry began to notice that he was the only one who wasn’t aging.” She looks fondly at the giggling boys. “He missed Julio and didn’t understand why he wasn’t in the third grade with him.”

  
  


“I think Julio missed him too, he begged to come with me when he heard Henry would be here.” Chelo glances at her. “Why did you do it?”

  
  


“Cast the dark curse?” Regina clenches her teeth. She enjoyed the rivalry with Chelo during the competition for the PTA, but she is in no mood to justify the dark curse, to dredge up the reasoning for all her past decisions.

  
  


“Adopt your son. If he was going to age alone, why adopt him at all?”

  
  


The laughter of Henry and Julio rings out across the playground.

  
  


Regina smiles. “I wanted to raise a child. I wasn’t sure if he would age at all, thought the parts of the dark curse that came from the infinite forest would stop him aging.” She sighs heavily. “When I realized how quickly he was growing up, I thought to explain the situation to him. But I just kept putting it off and putting it off.”

  
  


Henry stops pushing Julio and the boys begin whispering.

  
  


“ _How_ was I supposed to start that conversation?” Regina laughs bitterly. “ _Then_ he found a book with some of our stories.” She glances at the boys just as Julio gets back on the swing. She smiles. “Things are better now.”

  
  


Julio stands up in the middle of the swing and Henry begins pushing him by the back of his knees, laughing.

  
  


Both mothers stand up, eyes wide.

  
  


“ _Julio!_ ”

  
  


“ _Henry!_ ”

  
  


Both boys jump in surprise and look at their mothers, faces guilty. Henry stops the swing and Julio jumps off. They run to the jungle gym together. Their mothers sit down.

  
  


Chelo shakes her head at the boys’ antics, before turning back to Regina, looking at the children from the corner of her eye.“The magic of the infinite forest that’s in the dark curse wouldn’t have stopped him from aging. I know; I helped create it.”

  
  


Regina stares at her. “You? It was Rumplestiltskin.”

  
  


“He put it all together, but knew nothing about the infinite forest when he started. When he came and asked me… I was sheltered, believed in his good intentions.” She smiles ruefully. “Should have known better.”

  
  


“The lament of everyone he’s ever met.” Regina smirks.

  
  


“Not Belle,” Chelo says, leaning in to gossip.

  
  


Regina raises an eyebrow. “Has he found a way to get her memories back?”

  
  


“Yes, a month ago. I frequent her father’s flower shop; he’s told me she’s recovered her memories, though not her sense when it comes to that troll.”

  
  


Both women smirk and watch their sons chase each other around the playground.

  
  


“Dioba said you had some experience with the infinite forest,” Regina finally says. “What help could you offer in breaking the time spell?”

  
  


Chelo shifts on the bench. “I was born and raised in the portion of the infinite forest between Ataecina and Dovelico,” she smiles. “That’s where I met my husband and had my children. We did leave for a while, but he died in the most recent ogre war when Julio was just a baby, and we went back to the infinite forest.”

  
  


Regina stares at Chelo for a moment. She wants to know how old she is, but can’t bring herself to be that rude. “How old are your children?” she asks instead.

  
  


“Julio is seven, Casimira is nine, Arturo is thirteen.” Chelo ticks off their ages on her fingers.

  
  


“How old are they really?”

  
  


“I think Julio lost a tooth a few years after you were born.” Chelo says and Regina only just manages not to stare in wonder. “Lost another two after the dark curse broke,” she laughs. “After we found out about the time spell, he tried to knock out the rest of them.”

  
  


“Adult teeth won’t come in during the spell.”

  
  


“That’s why I had to give him all the quarters he would have gotten ahead of time.” She watches Julio trip over his shoelaces, pick himself up, and continue chasing Henry. “He’s been seven for a very long time. But he is still seven.”

  
  


“Will you age normally if you’re not in the infinite forest?”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“I’ve shortened your lives.” Regina takes a deep breath. “I apologize.” It’s hard to feel regret when the dark curse gave her a reprieve from her hell, but there was collateral damage.

  
  


Chelo shakes her head. “Don’t. Mira had…some trouble breathing. Whale gave her an inhaler and now she’s fine. We lived long lives in the forest but still could have died of sickness,” she smiles. “It’s not all bad. I’ve made a life here. I have friends, like Dioba.” She stares hard at Regina. “She’s part of the reason why I’ve agreed to help. She worries for Diarra, doesn’t want Snow erasing him from existence.”

  
  


“Diarra was born far away from any reach Snow has. She likely won’t interact with him at all.”

  
  


“She’s his mother, she worries,” Chelo smiles and shrugs.

  
  


Regina looks at Henry, who’s hanging from the monkey bars. “That’s true.”

  
  


“The other reason, is that I have a…” Chelo pauses. “ A friend, Ingrid…she wants to leave town.”

  
  


“The time spell set up a barrier—”

  
  


“After the spell has been broken, which I’m willing to help out with, she wants to leave town,” she sighs. “As do I. We traveled the infinite forest after my husband died, that’s how we got caught up in the dark curse. If I’m going to die in this world, like to see it first. I want you to find a way for all of us to leave town and retain our memories…and to come back if we choose,” she looks at Regina. “Can you do that?”

  
  


Regina nods. “I can, given time.”

  
  


Chelo smirks. “You’ll have a lot.” Julio tackles Henry to the ground and begins tickling him, and Henry’s shriek of laughter can he heard all the way back to the bench. Regina and Chelo smile. “Their ages may not match their forms, but they are still children, aren’t they?” she laughs.

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


Snow wandered into Regina’s quarters during mid-afternoon, where Regina sat in front of her boudoir having her hair done by a lady-in-waiting. She stood by the door, quietly peeking in. She hadn’t been able to bring herself to just _talk_ to Regina. The Regina she knew was still in Storybrooke, this woman, this _girl_ was younger than Snow and suffering through things Snow had never thought about, never even considered.

  
  


“Hold still please, your majesty.” The woman asked, a hint of pleading in her voice.

  
  


“I’m sorry, I just…” Regina sighed frustrated. The king insisted she join him for dinner, he’d said she had spent too many months alone in her room, that she must become accustomed to his company. She shivered. She did not want to leave her room for any reason at all, did not want to see the king or have anyone see her. She shifted again, uncomfortable.

  
  


“Your Majesty!” The maid said, exasperated.

  
  


“Sorry.” Regina took a deep breath and placed her hands firmly at her side, ignored the movement in her stomach.

  
  


Snow looked on in sympathy, she knew the source of Regina’s fidgeting. When she’d been pregnant with Emma, the kicking and the constant discomfort had made it near impossible for her to sit still. Then she’d had people who understood that and sympathized with her. She watched Regina stare blankly into the mirror. She’d doomed a child to have a child.

  
  


Regina bit the inside of her cheek, and sucked in a deep breath. Every time the child kicked at her insides, a wave of rage came over her. She wanted to break all of the windows, destroy everything in her path. But she could not, and she took another breath, and tried not to move.

  
  


The child moved again, and Regina’s nostrils flared.

  
  


In the mirror in front of her, she thought she saw a flash of gold and green, but it was gone in a moment. She shifted again.

  
  


“Please stay still! I cannot continue doing up your hair if you keep fidgeting! Your majesty.”

  
  


Regina grit her teeth and stood as quickly as she could. “I need to take a break. This child will not stop moving, and as such I cannot sit still for you.”

  
  


“Your majesty, I must protest, your hair—”

  
  


“I do believe,” Regina’s eyes flashed. “That I am your queen.” She grit her teeth. “I am with child, and I order you to afford me the peace I am owed. Leave, and come back in an hour.”

  
  


“Your majesty—”

  
  


“Now.” Regina said, voice like thunder.

  
  


The maid quickly put down the brush and comb. Snow realized the woman was going to leave the room, so she set off down the hallway, only glancing back when the affronted maid slammed the door behind her.

  
  


_Could a maid be so disrespectful to a queen without repercussion?_ She wondered.

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


It’s late afternoon and Emma stands on the intersection of Blynken and Nod streets, in front of three different shops, and she’s just about at her wit’s end. She and David had been called down for a public disturbance, and it’s been half an hour and she still has very little idea of what’s going on. From what she can tell, the woman who owns the bakery, Hot Cross Buns and the woman who owns the candlestick shop, Babylon Candles, are arguing over a boat or a bathtub, Emma doesn’t know which.

  
  


“Everyone calm down!” David says, holding up his hands. “Whatever is going on, we’ll fix it.” The women continue to screech at each other.

  
  


“Okay, everyone shut up!” Emma yells, irritated. The women go silent, glaring at her. “Someone tell me what’s going on.”

  
  


“Jack and Mary are arguing over the boat.” Says the woman who came from the shop with BUTCHER on the front in big red letters.

  
  


“Why are they arguing over the boat?” David asks.

  
  


“Rent’s due and if Jack can’t pay, Mary gets it.”

  
  


“And I thought this one,” Jack points to Mary. “Was my friend, but I’m learning differently, aren’t I?”

  
  


“If you can’t pay for the boat, Jack, then you shouldn’t get to have it. Why does a candlestick maker even need a boat?”

  
  


“I don’t know, Mary, why does a baker? It’s my boat, Hook gave it to me—”

  
  


“Wait, Hook gave you the boat?” Emma stares, Hook’s spent the past six months locked up in Storybrooke’s new jail, on the edge of town and contained within a barrier set up by Regina.

  
  


“Yes, weren’t you listening?” Mary rolls her eyes. “We were part of his crew, sailed on his second ship. Now it’s a small tugboat, ” she glares at Jack. “I want to go looking for the kraken, and I can pay to do it, even if you can’t.”

  
  


“Ladies, come on we can work this out.” David says placatingly.

  
  


Emma starts to laugh quietly, it’s all she can do to keep from bursting into tears. Mary said there was a kraken, _a_ _kraken_ , and no one even blinked. For _six months_ she’s held herself together, kept herself composed, been the best sheriff she possibly could be, even though the town is full of fucking fairytale characters, and apparently fucking _nursery rhymes_ too, and she doesn’t know if she can do it anymore. She laughs louder.

  
  


“Emma,” David places a hand on her shoulder, trying to look into her eyes. “Are you okay?”

  
  


“This isn’t funny, why is she laughing?” Jack snarls.

  
  


Emma pulls out her phone. This is an economics issue or something. “I’m gonna call Reg-the mayor.”

  
  


The women continue arguing in the background, beginning to draw a crowd. Emma walks off to the side, waits for Regina to pick up the phone, holds in the tears and lets out her laughter.

  
  


“Emma? I’m at work…why are you laughing?”

  
  


“I’m at work too,” she snorts. “This is my _job_. My profession. I do this for _money_.”

  
  


“What?” Regina sounds worried or annoyed or both, Emma can’t tell, can barely hear her over her own laughter.

  
  


“There’s some kind of argument between…” When she was young Emma never thought her life would turn out like this. “The argument is between the butcher, the baker and the candlestick maker. It’s about a boat,” she laughs louder. “ _Why the fuck are there nursery rhymes in town?_ ”

  
  


There’s silence on the other end. “Give me a moment.” Regina says calmly.

  
  


“What did Regina say?” David calls.

  
  


Emma hangs up her phone and pulls herself together enough to talk to these people. “Okay, hold on for a moment, the mayor is coming, she’ll fix this.”

  
  


“She had better,” Jack snarls.

  
  


Regina appears on the sidewalk in a puff of purple smoke, holding a small book in her hand. She grabs Emma’s shoulder and leads her gently away from the gathering crowd. “What’s wrong with you?” she asks quietly.

  
  


“I…I can’t handle _this_.” Emma whispers, pointing back down the street where David stands between the arguing women.

  
  


“You could handle everything else, but you can’t handle a property dispute?” Regina asks.

  
  


“ _No._ This…this…” Emma waves her hands around. “This whole thing! My life here. I could barely handle it before, but I couldn’t _not_ handle it, and I’m the _sheriff_ ,” she whispers. “So I just kept going and…” she stares at Regina earnestly. “Please tell me there’s not a kraken.”

  
  


“There’s not a kraken. I can tell you that for certain,” Regina says. “It’s a myth some of the townsfolk who were sailors in the old world like to perpetuate.”

  
  


“Okay.” Emma nods and takes a shuddering breath.

  
  


“Are you going to be able to handle this?” Regina sees Emma’s hysterical smile, her teary eyes, her creased brow. “Wait here.” She squeezes Emma’s shoulder and walks back to the crowd, smiling at the women. “Hello Jack, Mary.” She nods at the butcher. “Butch.”

  
  


“How’s Emma?” David asks.

  
  


“Madame Mayor, are you going to fix this?” Mary snaps.

  
  


Regina raises an eyebrow. “Not if you don’t watch your tone,” she says snidely. “In fact…” she opens the book she’s carrying, one with small colorful strings hanging from it. “I think I will fix this. Once and for all, in favor of Jack.” She thumbs through the book, before stopping on a page. She looks around at the watching crowd for a moment before smiling at a skinny teenager. “Simone Bellman, come here.”

  
  


Simone stays exactly where she is, staring at Regina. Arturo rolls his eyes behind her, and whispers in her ear, before pushing her forward. “Yes, Madame Mayor?” she asks.

  
  


Regina reaches into her purse and pulls out her wallet. She counts out three hundred dollars, as Simone’s eyes grow progressively bigger. “This,” she holds the money out to Simone. “Is for your mother. Tell her it’s a…” she pauses and her voice takes on resonance, like she’s speaking magic. “It’s a yearly bonus.” Simone takes the money and prepares to run off, but Regina grabs her elbow. “That is for your _mother_ , and I will know immediately if you have even the slightest notion to spend it on yourself. Is that clear?” Simone nods. “Then go.” The girl dashes off down the street, Arturo and Blue running behind her. Regina smiles. “That should settle it.”

  
  


“What was that?” David stares at her. “You just gave the money to the wrong person.”

  
  


“It’s economics magic. I gave the money to exactly the person who will spend it exactly as it’s needed. Simone’s mother can expect to see about 275 dollars, that child has learned to be relatively honest,” she smiles at Jack. “Check your pockets.”

  
  


Jack shoves her hands into her pockets and pulls out a handful of bills. “What is this?” she asks, eyes wide.

  
  


“It’s the exact amount of money you’ll need to continue renting the boat. This is settled, is that clear?” Regina stares hard at all three women, and they nod, flabbergasted. “Good.” Regina turns to David. “I believe you’ll still need to fill out an incident report, expected on my desk in no less than a week.” She stares at him. “A week,” she calls behind her as she walks away. “I’m going to…talk to your daughter.”

  
  


“Regina,” Emma says quietly. “I…I don’t—”

  
  


“Hold on.” Regina grabs Emma’s arm and poofs them to her office. “Sit,” she pushes a bewildered Emma down onto one of her couches. “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

  
  


Emma stares at her for a moment. “I…this is too much.”

  
  


“What’s too much?” Regina asks carefully.

  
  


“This town. Everyone is a fairytale character, or apparently a someone from a nursery rhyme, and it’s…a lot. It doesn’t make any sense! None of it. Why the hell are there even nursery rhymes in town?”

  
  


Regina nods. “I have some theories. I studied realm theory with Jefferson after my initial lessons with Rumplestiltskin,” she looks at Emma. “The old world is not without it’s own logic. It has it’s mysteries, but there is sense and reason to it. As for the nursery rhymes…do you know why we call it the old world?” Emma shakes her head. “Because this world is new to us, and so the world we originally came from is old.”

  
  


“So?”

  
  


“We have no reason to believe the world we’re in now, the ‘new world’ wasn’t the world that came first. So just as fairy tales may have come to the old world from here, the nursery rhymes may have ended up in the same place.”

  
  


“Is that even possible?” Emma asks, on the verge of hysteria again, this is too much to learn, too much new information to absorb.

  
  


Regina sighs and gives her a small smile. “Emma, just because you don’t understand all of it yet, doesn’t mean you never will. It’s new to you, but it is your life now,” she pauses and stands. “Would you like a drink?”

  
  


“Yeah.” Emma says, head in her hands.

  
  


“What’s a movie you enjoy?” Regina asks as she pours scotch from a decanter into two glasses.

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“A movie.”

  
  


“Oh.” Emma glances at her. “I liked The Untouchables.” Regina nods and sits down, handing Emma a glass. A laptop appears on the table in front of them, and the opening credits of the movie begin to play. Emma smiles. “Thanks.”

  
  


“You’re welcome.” Regina says, before hesitantly taking Emma’s hand in her own, squeezing slightly.

  
  


Emma squeezes back. This feels a little bit like the permanence she’s been searching for all her life.

  
  


<>

  
  


Emma’s at the library, preparing to take notes for the press conference she and Regina have to give on the time spell. It’s been almost seven months, but with the addition of Chelo, they’ve finally managed to get enough of the effects outlined, though a way to break the spell still hasn’t appeared.

  
  


“So…” Emma swings her feet up on the table and glances at the clock. It’s 8:31, so she has to relieve August from his patrol in about an hour. Regina swats her leg and Emma puts her feet down, shooting her a chastised look. “Uh, what’s going on with the time spell?”

  
  


“So far—” Chelo glances at a spiral bound notebook, filled with scrawled writing. “The people of storybrooke bar Regina, Cora, and anyone else who was around Snow White in the months after Leopold married Regina, have not had their memories affected. But they’re able to create new memories even though no one ages. This will likely carry on as long as the time spell lasts. As Snow moves forward in the past, interacts with more people, more and more townspeople will feel their memories change. Like Regina has.”

  
  


“It’s likely events will change as well,” Dioba says.

  
  


“Wait, how?” Emma asks.

  
  


“For instance, if Snow did something in the past to make it so…someone lost a foot, then that person would no longer have a foot here in Storybrooke. And their life in the past would continue forward, from the moment that they lost their foot, their memories changing from then on in relation to the loss of the limb. There’d likely be some kind of disconnect in their memories, as the newly changed timeline, the one where they’re missing a foot, progresses, and eventually the changing timeline would overtake the new timeline.” Regina says helpfully.

  
  


“Eventually,” Dioba adds. “The memories would begin to correspond. Both the dark curse and the time spell have elements of the infinite forest, which is a living force of magic.”

  
  


“Wait, It’s alive? The town is alive.”

  
  


“Yes.” Regina nods. “Anyway, the time spell…thinks per se, and it does not like to deviate from the original timeline, especially on the scale that Snow White is deviating. It may actually attempt to manipulate events to keep things the same…this is just postulation though…there’s never been a time spell of this magnitude cast before.”

  
  


“Okay, so everyone in town will have their memories change?”

  
  


“Well, everyone except you.” Regina leans forward. “You’re the only known product of true love in town, and seem to be the only one able to fully recognize when something has changed. The time spell isn’t acting on you the way it’s acting on everyone else. Because you’re an outsider, not only to the events of the old world, but also to life in Storybrooke, for the majority of the dark curse.”

  
  


“Like, you’re saying I noticed things? What did I notice?”

  
  


“For instance, you keep saying that there weren’t always candle wicks in the street lamps, and that the roads haven’t always been full of trees. We think that those changes might have come about because Snow was supposed to move in time not place, but she went back to a time when Storybrooke simply didn’t exist, and the spell is trying to compensate.” Regina looks at Emma closely. “Don’t you remember? You were complaining about the trees in the road?”

  
  


“Uh yeah.” Emma scratches the side of her head. “But it’s been like months, and I’d sort of gotten used to it.”

  
  


“Well its affect on you could change.” Chelo says. “The mechanics of the time spell seem to make it grow stronger as it gets closer to the time when it was cast.”

  
  


“So it grows stronger as it gets closer to its…finish?” Emma asks.

  
  


“Yes.” Dioba nods. “At some point it may even be able to overtake your memories. Another factor to consider is the fact that things in Storybrooke may change in such a way that your memory of the people in Storybrooke might change, simply because Snow changed their pasts. So…the person who lost their leg, your memories of them having a leg would disappear.”

  
  


“So, in short, eventually everyone is going to be hit by the time spell, possibly in different ways.” Emma takes a deep breath and nods. “Give me two days and I’ll draft up something to present to the town—”

  
  


“Emma, we thought it might be best if…if the townspeople weren’t alerted to everything until things truly began to change for them. We might still be able to fix the time spell before then, and…there might be some unrest. It could get dangerous. As sheriff you should be aware of what’s going on, but it might be better if no one else knows.” Regina says, looking at Emma carefully.

  
  


“Okay.” The last thing Emma needs is for the town to turn into a war-zone over this. “The whole dark curse intersect thing…?”

  
  


Regina glances at Chelo. “No. Chelo’s been able to help us figure out how the time spell would affect the town based on her time spent in the infinite forest, and while the dark curse has some similar aspects, it’s another thing entirely.”

  
  


Emma nods. “So how do we break it?”

  
  


“We don’t know.” Regina says. “We had to figure out what was happening before we could even start to figure out how it might be broken. But now, it should be easier to think of how it could break.”

  
  


“Alright.” Emma sighs. “Anything else?”

  
  


“Yes.” Dioba glances at Regina. “Your mother. Do you think of her often?”

  
  


Emma blinks in surprise. “Well, yeah, I mean…:” she pauses. She hasn’t thought of Snow as often as she would, especially considering Snow is gone. Her everyday thoughts aren’t about how Snow is absent, mostly they’re about how boring incident reports are, and if Henry is behaving, if Regina is okay, if David is actually doing his incident reports and is somewhat happy even though his wife is gone, but she doesn’t really connect with the fact that David’s wife is her mom and gone from her life as well. “You know what…I don’t think of her as often as I might?”

  
  


Chelo nods. “That’s likely an effect of the time spell. She’s kind of…fading from everyone’s memories. There’s a space where she should be, and it’ll remain, but people barely notice she’s missing…it’s like their minds jump over her absence.” Chelo looks hard at Emma. “Do you miss your mother?”

  
  


“Uh, no.” Emma says, only just managing not to glance at Regina. “I guess not.”

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


After seven months of avoiding Regina, staying away from her quarters and keeping her head down at the supper table, Snow finally found the courage to enter Regina’s quarters and make herself known that evening, when she was sure her father would not also be there. She knew in her bones that Emma was worth everything that Regina would do, but she could not justify what she had done to Regina by keeping the truth of Daniel’s death a secret.

  
  


Regina sat by the window staring out, arms by her sides, body stiff. The child was kicking her ferociously, but she would not touch her stomach, would not acknowledge it. Another wave of rage overtook her, but she stifled it, swallowed it back and blinked away the tears in her eyes.

  
  


“Regina?” Snow said softly, not wanting to startle her. Regina jumped anyway, and looked at Snow, eyes blank.

  
  


“Hello, Snow. How are you?” She asked, voice devoid of inflection or feeling.

  
  


“I’m…fine. How are you?”

  
  


“Fine as well.” Regina turned back to staring out the window, leaving Snow to stand meekly by the door. Regina sighed. She couldn’t blame Snow, shouldn’t blame Snow for her predicament. All the girl had done was to fall off her horse, and her earlier happiness over gaining a mother…Regina couldn’t fault her for being happy to have a mother again, one that would be there, one that cared. She turned away from the window, and stared at Snow. “What did you want?”

  
  


“Nothing, I only wanted to see you.” Snow lied. She wanted Regina to know how to fix the time spell, but this Regina was too young in too many ways. She wanted to say that she was sorry for causing Regina’s pain, but she had never actually admitted the fact that she had to Regina. She wanted to say that it could still turn out fine, the locket still beat warm against her chest. “How are you really?” She said instead, crossing over to stand near Regina by the window.

  
  


Regina looked hard at her. She could not trust her mother to be on her side, her father was useless, and the king only…perhaps she could trust Snow. “I…I am managing.” She lied.

  
  


Snow nodded and looked at Regina’s stomach. “And the baby?”

  
  


“It’s fine as well, I suppose” Regina shrugged. “The healers seem satisfied with its…progress. They say it’s a boy.”

  
  


“Can I…touch?” Snow asked. Regina stared at her for a moment, before her eyes became unfocused. She nodded stiffly. Snow lay her hand on Regina’s swollen stomach and blinked in surprise as she felt the movement underneath. “He’s kicking!” She exclaimed.

  
  


“Yes. It is.” Regina said quietly.

  
  


Snow’s excitement over the movement died almost immediately, as she remembered exactly how Regina came to be pregnant. She removed her hand and looked at Regina. Her face was blank, eyes unfocused. “Regina?” She asked. “Have you chosen a name? It’s your right as foreign queen.”

  
  


Regina stiffened and grit her teeth angrily. “I would have chosen to name the child Tomas, but…your father and my mother have agreed that Giacomo would be a better name for him. It.”

  
  


“Oh. Have you asked my father—”

  
  


“Your father and I do not…talk, Snow.” Regina took a deep steadying breath, it did not quell the rage in her heart, but it made speaking manageable. She stared at the window, looking at the land far away from where she was trapped. “I’ve…made my peace with the name. They may name it whatever they choose.” Tears fell from her eyes and she cursed her hormones, but knew their source was everything that was not hers, no longer her own.

  
  


“Aren’t you…” Snow paused. “Aren’t you angry?”

  
  


Regina looked at Snow, tears running down her face. “Yes,” She said smiling. “But that doesn’t matter, does it?”

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina stands outside of Archie’s office door. It’s been months, more than seven, since her last session. She’s scheduled it late at night, ten o’clock, so as to avoid any prying eyes.

  
  


Once she’s ready, she’s going to knock, she will, she’s going to walk into Archie’s office and…he’ll help her come to terms with everything and move on.

  
  


Because it’s been seven months, _seven months_ and she hasn’t slept in her bed once.

  
  


Because she wants to stop dreaming of the times when she had no power, and revel in the ability to run her town perfectly and capably.

  
  


Because she’s trying not to let her anger rule her, but in her daydreams she still imagines all the many ways she could kill Snow. And she knows now, she’s certain that her anger _matters_ , it’s real and it’s fine to feel. But she imagines acting on it, pulling the last breath from Snow White’s throat.

  
  


Because she looks at Henry, who smiles at her like he trusts her as much as he trusts that the sun will rise in the morning. He trusts that she will always kiss him goodnight, that she will always hold him when he’s scared, that she will always come home from a long day at work, still his mother.

  
  


Because she looks at Emma, who clings to the idea of a mother, won’t say she does, but it’s in her creased brow every time Snow’s name is spoken. Emma can’t hate Snow like Regina does, maybe never will and she wants to be okay with that.

  
  


Because she even looks at _David_ , who’s finally started to get her grocery list correct, who’s the only one of the deputies who consistently turns in his incident report on time, who watches Henry like a hawk when she’s not around to do it herself.

  
  


Because she doesn’t want to hurt any of them by killing Snow.

  
  


Because Chelo and Dioba don’t look at her like a villain, they look at her like she might be a friend.

  
  


Because she’s reaching the point where she feels like forgiveness is in her grasp, at least by the people she cares about, and she doesn’t want to lose that.

  
  


She takes a deep breath and almost regrets turning down Emma’s offer to accompany her to the door, but this is something she has to do alone.

  
  


Because she cares for Emma and the friendship feels so easy, like falling asleep when she’s too tired to support herself alone or care where she’s landed.

  
  


Because she wants to be able to believe that if she falls and it hurts, she can be picked up, dusted off, and start again.

  
  


Because she’s no longer alone and wants to bask in that fact, wants to finally trust that she never will be again.

  
  


She repeats these reasons in her head and knocks on the door. She hears Pongo’s happy bark and smiles.

  
  


<>

  
  


Emma’s stomach rumbles and she glances at the clock in the station. It’s nearing ten pm and she has to start her shift in half an hour, but for now she’s going to finish up her paperwork before heading out on patrol. She swings her feet up on her desk, sighs and starts to write.

  
  


Regina stalks into the bullpen, clutching a takeout bag from Granny’s and looking around frantically. She stops and stares when she sees Emma.

  
  


Emma puts her feet down and smiles at her guiltily. “I know the report is late, I’m sorry about that. I had to go over August’ incident reports and cut out all the ‘thematic’ lies, but I’m working on mine now. You didn’t have to come down here, I’m doing it.

  
  


“That’s not why I’m here,” she says. “I…we need to talk.”

  
  


“About what?” Emma leans forward, worried. “Something didn’t happen with Henry, did it?”

  
  


“No, no.” Regina shakes her head. “Henry’s gone to a concert at the McConnell farm. Chelo’s older son and his band are playing.”

  
  


“Yeah, I know.” Emma smiles. “They invited Ruby. I think the lead singer has a crush.”

  
  


“I don’t really care,” Regina says. “That’s not why I came. Is anyone else here?” Emma shakes her head. “We…I brought you something.” She hands Emma the takeout bag from Granny’s.

  
  


“Is this…” Emma opens the bag and stares in wonder. “Is this a double cheeseburger? With large fries?” she whispers in awe.

  
  


“Yes,” Regina sniffs. “And I’m disgusted that you’re going to eat it.”

  
  


“You don’t get to judge,” Emma mumbles, mouth already full. “I’ve seen you eat two plates of spaghetti with meatballs, and then scarf down half a loaf of garlic bread.”

  
  


“Yes, but,” Regina looks at the grease stained bag. “I do have my limits.” She watches Emma takes a bite. “We need to talk about the time spell.”

  
  


“Haven’t we alrea—”

  
  


“No. I mean,” Regina sighs. “The intersection between the time spell and the dark curse.”

  
  


Emma leans forward in her seat. “You guys figured it out?” It’s only been eight months.

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“So…what’s gonna happen?”

  
  


Regina sighs. This isn’t something she really wants to tell Emma, but of the women in the library, she’s the one who knows her best. “The dark curse is going to be recast, and it will affect this exact place in the world…Storybrooke will be re-created.”

  
  


“So what,” Emma speaks with her mouth full. “There’ll be two Storybrookes layered on top of each other? Two Emma’s, Two Regina’s?”

  
  


“No. Storybrooke…there can’t be two of them. What will happen is…the second Storybrooke will take over the current Storybrooke. And everyone in it will revert to how they were when the dark curse was cast, or how they will be after Snow has changed their lives before the dark curse..”

  
  


Emma stops eating. “Okay, but what about me and Henry? We weren’t around then.”

  
  


Regina sighs and leans forward. “You will…become an infant again. With no memory of anything that’s happened. You’ll go through your life, giving birth to Henry, up until after you break the dark curse, and after that until Snow slots herself back in time.”

  
  


“What?” Emma drops her cheeseburger and stares at Regina. “You…I can’t go through my childhood again.” She can’t go back, not to when she got so used to being alone that it became comforting, because it meant she couldn’t be hurt. She can’t go back, not now when there are people who actually _care_ about her.

  
  


“It’ll feel like…the first time. You won’t remember that you’ve lived it before, up until Snow slots herself back into the timeline. She’ll be caught up in the dark curse as well…so she won’t remember to replace the original timeline.”

  
  


Regina looks at her with genuine fear and worry, and Emma focuses on the fact that she’s at the point where she can see that Regina is worried about her, and she feels warm inside. But if the dark curse is recast that will be gone. She takes a deep shuddering breath.

  
  


“No.”

  
  


“What?” Regina blinks. “What do you mean, ‘no’?”

  
  


“We have to break the time spell before that. I can’t…” Her breath catches in her throat. “Regina, do you know what my childhood was like?”

  
  


“I…” Regina can guess. “No, tell me.”

  
  


“I was alone. My parents put me in a wardrobe and I was alone. There was _no one_ who gave a shit about me. And I…” she pauses and takes a deep breath. “You know what, I’m not gonna talk about it.”

  
  


“What?” Regina stares hard at her. “Emma, if you want to talk about this—”

  
  


“I can’t!” Emma snaps. “Because, it’s about my mother, and I can’t talk about her to David, with the time spell I don’t even know if he even _thinks_ of her that often, and I don’t want him to get depressed like he was when we first left the apartment. And I just…I don’t want…” she takes a deep breath. “I feel like I can’t talk to you about losing Snow, or what she’s _doing_ because you—”

  
  


“Your mother and I have history,” Regina says sharply. “And that’s never going to change, I will _never_ forgive her, Emma. But—”

  
  


“But you can forgive your own mother, who killed Daniel in the first place.” Emma snarls.

  
  


Regina takes a deep steadying breath. She knows Emma’s avoiding the problem. “My mother is the only one who I know will always want me around, and that’s irrele—”

  
  


“That’s bullshit,” Emma says incredulously. “ I want you around.” Regina stares at her.

  
  


“You want me around?”

  
  


“…And so does Henry, and Dioba likes you, and Chelo and you seem kind of like friends, and David only really gets pissed at you now because you make him buy expensive food, and—”

  
  


“You want me around.” Regina repeats.

  
  


“Yeah,” Emma says. “I want you around.” She understands why the idea of being alone again is so terrifying, it’s because now she _isn’t_.

  
  


Regina smiles softly for a moment, then clears her throat. “As I was saying before, I’m never going to forgive your mother, she has hurt me, repeatedly. _When_ we break the time spell, I’m going to cause her some measure of bodily harm.”

  
  


“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

  
  


“Emma, I will not be angry with _you_ if you feel the need to…get her an icepack after I break her nose.” Regina downplays the amount of violence she’s currently planning to inflict on Snow, there _will_ be an ambulance. “I…want you around. And,” she sighs. “I can’t tell you to hate her like I do.” She looks Emma in the eye. “If you want to talk about Snow, I _can_ listen.”

  
  


Emma’s shoulders slump, she’s so tired of holding it all in. “I…didn’t really know Snow that well…but…she said she’d be my mom, and I was _hoping.._.” she pauses. “God, I sound like a little kid.” She laughs at herself but Regina doesn’t, so she finds the courage to continue. “Having a mom, like the word Mom, kind of lost all meaning after a while, you know? I gave up on maybe having that until Snow offered to be mine and…” she tries to hold in her tears. “I can’t just let that _go_. I can’t just ignore that, it’s all I wanted all my life, and I _can’t—_ ” she bites her lip and fails to stop herself from crying.

  
  


“You don’t have to.” Regina says, scooting her chair closer to Emma, grimacing as it squeaks across the linoleum. She puts a hand Emma’s arm. “I’m not going to forgive her, but that does _not_ mean that I expect you to ignore the fact that she’s…your mother.” Emma leans closer, as Regina wraps her arm around Emma, holding her tightly, pulling her in closer. “We’ll fix this, we have time,” she says quietly.

  
  


“What if we can’t? Fuck, Regina,” Emma whispers. “What am I gonna do?”

  
  


<>

  
  


Three days later Emma’s getting ready to head home from the station, for a late night of gangster and horse movies. Ruby walks in to the station, sets her bag down on her desk, and plops into her seat.

  
  


“When is this stuff supposed to be due?” she asks, glancing at the paperwork.

  
  


“Yesterday,” Emma jumps as her cell rings. “Sheriff.”

  
  


“Emma?” It’s David, and he’s panting. “Emma, you need to get to old McConnell’s farm as quickly as possible.”

  
  


“What? What’s happening?” she signals Ruby who stops rifling through the stacks of paper.

  
  


“I was up here, discussing goat milk with McConnell, and one of his goats just turned into a chimera!”

  
  


“A chimera?” Emma’s voice is flat.

  
  


“There’s a chimera?” Ruby stares at her.

  
  


“Yeah, you better get up here. The children and the kids have been evacuated, but the chimera’s still in the barn…” There’s shouting and David hangs up.

  
  


Emma stares at the phone in her hand for a second. “I’m gonna call Regina, then I’ll poof us up to the farm.” She absolutely cannot, _will not_ be handling this alone.

  
  


“Uh, no.” Ruby steps toward the door. “I don’t trust your poofing skills, I’m just gonna run it.”

  
  


“Look, I know it seems pretty sketchy, but it works fine.” Emma insists picking up her guns.

  
  


“Didn’t Regina tell you to stop doing that?” She glances at the guns. “Yeah, I’d rather not chance it. See you up there.” Ruby races through the front doors.

  
  


Emma shrugs and calls Regina.

  
  


“You’re going to be late for dinner,” Regina says as soon as she picks up. “And then you’ll have to microwave your food—”

  
  


“There’s a chimera in town.” Emma says flatly.

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“There’s a chimera in town. At old McConnell’s farm. Ruby’s already heading up there.”

  
  


“…I’ll come to the station to pick you up.”

  
  


“No, I’ll meet you there.”

  
  


“I told you to _stop doing that_ —”

  
  


“I’ve got this, I can do it.” Emma hangs up the phone and walks to the center of the bullpen. Taking a deep breath, she points Mjolnir One at her foot, shoots, and disappears in a puff of red smoke. She appears seconds later, in a field behind the McConnell farm, just as the barn explodes, blowing her backward among shards of wood.

  
  


She lies staring up at the night sky for a moment, trying to stop her heart from beating it’s way out of her chest. This is her _life_ and apparently it’s so easy to lose it here. Regina dives on top of her, just as a blast of fire passes overhead.

  
  


“Ow, jesus, Regina!” she yelps. “Watch your elbows!”

  
  


“Shut up,” Regina hisses, pulling herself off Emma, grabbing her hand and dragging her away from the demolished barn. “We need to find cover. Where’s Ruby?”

  
  


“She said she’d run,” Emma huffs as she tries to keep up with Regina. “She should be here any moment now, what does that thing even look like?” she glances curiously behind her, but the chimera is obscured by black smoke.

  
  


“I don’t see why you need to know what it looks like, we just need to kill it,” Regina snaps. “Stop dawdling!” She pulls Emma along, just as another blast of fire blocks their path. “ _Fuck!_ ” Regina stumbles but Emma stops her from falling.

  
  


“Regina,” she glances down. “Are you wearing _stilettos_?”

  
  


“I didn’t have time to change into sneakers,” Regina snaps. “And I can run in these, it’s just harder in this dirt.” She yanks Emma out of the way as a stream of fire comes towards them. “ _Pay attention!_ ”

  
  


“Calm down, can’t you just wave your hand and make it disappear or something?” Emma says, looking behind again, the smoke is beginning to clear and she’s beginning to see a huge figure, that could _not_ have fit inside the barn.

  
  


Regina pulls Emma in the other direction, any direction but the one the chimera is in. “No, I can’t just wave it away, it’s a living fire-breathing monster! It’s not some candles or a cut or the town budget,” she stops for a moment and squeezes Emma’s hand tight. “That thing can kill us,” she stares hard into Emma’s eyes.

  
  


Emma notices the fear there, the worry, and she takes a deep breath. “Okay. What do we do?”

  
  


“Once Ruby’s here, she can provide a distraction,” she glances behind her and runs faster. “The smoke gave us cover, but it’s going to be able to see us soon.” They run through a field and Emma can _feel_ the ground shake under their feet as the chimera chases after them. Regina yanks her down into the dirt as a huge gust of wind passes over head.

  
  


It’s the Chimera. At least ten feet high, it’s lions head roars in front of them, blowing their hair back from their faces, breath like wood smoke as it breathes more fire.

  
  


“I thought you said there were no chimeras in town!” Emma yells, flinching as the heat blows across her back.

  
  


“I said _likely_ ,” Regina hisses, scrambling to get up, just as the chimera prepares to breath fire into their faces again. A giant wolf leaps over them and tackles the chimera, snapping at it’s face, only just saving them from being burned alive.

  
  


“Fuck,” Emma pulls herself and Regina off the ground and drags her back in the opposite direction. “How are we supposed to defeat that thing?”

  
  


“I suggest you shoot it.” Regina yells over the sound of the wolf and chimera fighting. “We’ll have to split up,” she drops Emma’s hand and runs in the opposite direction. “Ms. Lucas,” she screams to the wolf. “See if you can distract it!” Ruby lets out an unearthly howl then attacks again before pulling back and running farther away from McConnell’s, the chimera chasing after her, the snake tail hissing behind.

  
  


“Are there any more dragons in town I should know about?” Emma yells in frustration, shooting bright red blasts of light from her guns. “Besides the one you slept with?!”

  
  


“She had a human form!” Regina screams back indignantly, fire streaming from her hands. She dives to the ground, only just managing to dodge as the chimera whips around again.

  
  


“Ish! She had _horns_.” Emma calls back laughing just as the tail of the chimera hits her side. She’s up in the air for what feels like forever, but what’s probably only a few seconds, before she crashes to the ground. Dazed, she stares up at the sky, the stars have disappeared in the light of the fires. For a moment, she thinks she hears Regina screaming her name but she can’t be sure.

  
  


Ruby tries to distract the chimera from Emma’s vulnerable position, but it’s not working, the creature has set it’s sights on her, it’s racing towards her, teeth bared.

  
  


“Call your fucking guns!” Regina yells, her face ashen. She takes a deep breath and pulls on her magic, running after the chimera, hands outstretched.The chimera pounces as a stream of purple flame flies from her fingertips, burning off the back half entirely, though the lion’s head flies towards Emma, roaring.

  
  


“Mjolnir one.” Emma mumbles. “Mjolnir two.” Her guns fly into her hands, she concentrates her magic, focuses on how much it would _suck_ to die here, leaving Henry, Regina and David behind. In a flash of red light, the rest of the chimera is dust. The world tilts as the stars brighten in the sky. She’s dizzy so she closes her eyes, just for a moment.

  
  


“Emma. Emma open your eyes.” she blinks and sees Regina’s worried face. “Can you see me?”

  
  


“Where’s Ruby?” she asks blearily, attempts to sit up, only to be pushed back down.

  
  


“Don’t get up, you’ve been out for a few minutes. Ms. Lucas went back to the McConnell farm for some clothes. I told her I’d take care of you, now tell me how you’re feeling.”

  
  


Emma lifts her head. “Uh, I feel okay. Why do I feel okay? I went flying at least twenty feet.”

  
  


“You were bleeding, but I cleaned that up. Can you stand?”

  
  


“Yeah.” Emma grabs Regina’s hand and is pulled to her feet and into a tight hug.

  
  


“You absolute jackass, if you die now, you stay dead, no matter what happens with the time spell,” she pulls back and glares at Emma. “You’re not going to get reckless and put yourself in danger like that again. It won’t matter if we manage to break the time spell if you’re dead. Next time don’t get so distracted.”

  
  


Emma grins. “We defeated the chimera didn’t we?”

  
  


Regina sighs deeply. “Yes,” she looks closely at Emma’s face. “I’m taking you to the hospital.”

  
  


“No, look,” Emma bounces on the balls of her feet. “I feel great. Let’s just go home.”

  
  


Regina scowls. “Fine, but I’m taking us. I don’t want you shooting yourself in the foot anymore. Besides being the most _ridiculous_ thing I have ever seen, it’s also incredibly dangerous, _what if you burned your foot off_?”

  
  


Emma shrugs. “Alright, I won’t…” she pauses and looks around the field. It’s now smoldering, all the plants are definitely dead. “Oh god, Regina, I think we razed McConnell’s field,” she mutters as she takes Regina’s hand. “We should go before he sees this.”

  
  


“I don’t think it’s his.” Regina glances off at the farmhouse in the distance. “We’ve managed to get pretty far from there.”

  
  


“Who does it belong to then? Like, what’s their fairytale name?”

  
  


Regina poofs them away. “Off of the top of my head, I can’t remember. It’s not mine, how would I know what they’re called?”

  
  


<>

  
  


“Mother, I don’t see why I can’t have the privilege of naming my…the child.” Regina snarled at her mother, her own anger overriding her sense of self preservation.

  
  


“You can’t even claim him, my dear.” Cora smiled at her daughter, placing a hand on Regina’s protruding belly. “This life is…your future. He cements your place in the kingdom.”

  
  


Regina stepped away, hands clenched by her side. “It does not. Particularly not if I have no say in its name.” She was trying to become close to the child, she had resigned herself to motherhood, and wouldn’t be a mother that couldn’t love her child. “Mother, please. Let me name him.” She placed a tentative hand on her stomach, trying not to flinch at the kicking.

  
  


“My darling, you don’t need to name him. His name as it is has it’s merits, its…useful.”

  
  


Regina nostrils flared. She spoke in a voice like thunder. “Do I also have my merits, Mother? Am I of _use_ to you?”

  
  


Cora glared and grabbed Regina’s wrist. “What did you say to me?” she hissed. “Do you know what I have sacrificed for you? You ungrateful child.”

  
  


Regina laughed wildly, at her wit’s end. “I’m not a child anymore, Mother.” She pressed her hand into her belly, felt the child kicking her. “Clearly.”

  
  


“You will not speak to me like that, Regina,” Cora snarled. “I am the only one that knows your worth, I am the only one who cares for you.”

  
  


“Daddy—”

  
  


“ Your father is useless,” she places a hand on Regina’s abdomen. “I’m the only one who will ever help you, without me you are alone. Do you understand?”

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


Emma and Regina sit on the couch, absently staring at the ending credits to Goodfellas. “Do you wanna watch something else, or work on the time spell, or…?” Emma asks.

  
  


Regina stares at the screen for a moment. “Emma…my memories.”

  
  


“Oh shit, do you want me to kiss you?” Regina nods, so Emma leans over and kisses her on the cheek, smiling as Regina sparkles.

  
  


“Thank you.”

  
  


“Yeah, no problem,” she looks at Regina who continues to stare off into space. “Hey, are you okay? It wasn’t…do you need me to do anything?”

  
  


“Emma, do you know why I haven’t said anything about the…baby?” Regina asks quietly.

  
  


“Uh, no. Why?”

  
  


“I don’t know anything,” she takes a deep breath. “Dioba and I have been searching for information, and we’ve come up blank. _I have no idea what’s happening_ …I don’t know what to do.”

  
  


“Okay.” Emma shifts closer to her, she doesn’t know how to help Regina, can’t fix the time spell or her past. She touches her shoulder tentatively before pulling her into a tight hug. “You’re still here though. We’ll figure it out.”

  
  


Regina buries her face in Emma’s shoulder. “What am I going to do?”

  
  


  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


After all the castle had gone to bed, in the early hours of the morning when Regina did not dare to sleep, she snuck into Leopold’s study, making the best of her unwieldy form. He had gone on a short trip to the outskirts of the kingdom, and while she would normally avoid his spaces, her mother’s insistence on naming her…son had made her suspicious.

  
  


In the king’s desk, among all of the trader’s accounts and missives to Renart, was a list. She lowered herself into his chair and began to read. All of the names of her aunts, uncles and cousins in Ataecina were on it, including her cousin Giacomo and uncle Tomas’, though their names were crossed out.

  
  


Regina carefully placed the papers back in her husband’s desk, exactly as she found them. She took a deep breath and resolved to ask her mother about the list at breakfast.

  
  


  
  


  
  


 

 


	8. By the wind and water

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: Blood, gore, stillbirth, marital rape, murder, emotional abuse/manipulation, silencing, forced pregnancy, guys this chapter is actually extra gore. slight changes made 4/21/14

  
  


In Regina’s dreams, a swaddled infant is lain on a throne, wailing as the people kneel before it. Her laughing mother and a solemn Leopold, swords in their hands, enter the room, and approach those on the floor. Snow stands behind them, smiling ruefully, regretful, but smiling all the same. Regina screams but no sound comes out, her words of warning never leave her throat. Blood splatters and the bodies collapse onto the stone tile, headless. The room grows cold and she sees the bodies begin to freeze, cracking on the stone like ice.

  
  


Her eyes fly open, and her mouth clamps shut. She remembers her desire to scream, but doesn’t want to wake Emma, who sleeps next to her on the couch. She takes a few, deep steadying breaths, glancing out of the corner of her eye at Emma as she drools onto a pillow. Regina tries to smile, but her heart aches, the fear from the dream is still present.

  
  


She stands and quietly leaves the room. She needs a walk, a chance to clear her head, to figure out what is memory, what is fact, and if those two coincide.

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina walked into the dining hall on tired legs. She had been up all night worrying over the list, begrudgingly rubbing her stomach whenever the child kicked, and pacing in her rooms to prevent herself from falling asleep.

  
  


Cora sat at the breakfast table. “Good morning, Regina,” she said. “I haven’t forgotten your insolence last night. I’ve ordered the cook serve nothing sweet to you until after the child is born.” She gestured across from her. “Come eat.”

  
  


“Yes, Mother.” Regina pulled back the chair and lowered herself into the seat, her stomach making it hard to sit completely at the table. She took a deep breath and prepared to confront her mother. “Last night I could not sleep.”

  
  


“Did you have nightmares?” her mother asked absently.

  
  


“No. The child was restless, so I was as well. I missed my husband,” she lied, looking down at the table.

  
  


“Did you?” Cora stared.

  
  


“Yes. So I went to his study, to be closer to him, and I found—” Regina’s mouth shut tight, the words stuck in her throat, no matter how hard she tried speak them.

  
  


Her mother looked at her carefully. “It’s a lovely day, darling.We’ll have our breakfast by that lovely pond near the castle. Come.” She stood. “I’m sure you can wait.”

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


Regina arrives at the docks. Drawn to the water, she breathes in the crisp air. She has something like friends, family, though they’re not with her now. For the first time in months she will call her mother’s name and wrath.

  
  


“Cora,” she calls.

  
  


<>

  
  


  
  


Mother and daughter sat in silence as the carriage arrived at the pond, Cora silent in thought, Regina still suffering the effects of the silencing spell her mother had cast on her.

  
  


The guard opened the door, and helped them out, Cora first. “Bring our meal,” she said imperiously. “Regina, would you like a chair? I would have to conjure one from the castle, but I will, for you.” Regina pointed to her mouth and Cora frowned and waved her hand.

  
  


“No, Mother, I’m fine sitting in the grass,” she said, beginning to ease herself down.

  
  


“You are not fine there, you are not a peasant. You’ll ruin your dress.” Cora waved her hand again and a blanket appeared. “Sit there,” she ordered.

  
  


Regina obediently sat on the blanket by the lake, staring out over the blue water. She thought she saw a flash of green and gold, but it disappeared when she blinked.

  
  


“Are you comfortable?” Cora asked, sitting across from her. She smiled kindly and placed her hand on her daughter’s belly, ignoring her discomfort at being touched there.

“I’m comfortable,” Regina lied. She glanced at the guards. “If you could please stand a few paces aw—”

  
  


“Nonsense, Regina,” her mother said. She flicked her wrist and muttered something under her breath. The guards became frozen where they stood, not breathing, not blinking, eyes wide.

  
  


“Mother!”

  
  


“Relax,” Cora laughed. “They’re unharmed and won’t be able to hear us now. What was it you found?”

  
  


Regina glanced warily at the guards. “In Leopold’s study, there was a list. It had the names of all of my uncles, aunts, and cousins from Ataecina. Two were crossed out…it looked like a kind of…” She sighed. “It looked like someone was making a list of people to kill.”

  
  


“And what does that tell you, my dear?” Cora asked, looking at her shrewdly.

  
  


“Everyone on that list is a royal in Ataecina. The only people not on it are Daddy and I…Mother, it seems like the king has plans for Ataecina…He doesn’t, does he?”

  
  


<>

  
  


Cora appears on the dock in a puff of purple smoke. She is thin, thinner than she had been months ago, and her eyes are bloodshot. “It’s taken you quite a while to call for me, Regina.”

  
  


“I didn’t think you would come. You seemed pained the last I saw you.”

  
  


“I’ll always come for you, my dear daughter.” Cora clutches her head. “Though you left me to deal with my…headache, alone for _eight months_.” She smiles through clenched teeth. “I will forgive you. I’m just glad you’ve come to your senses.”

  
  


Regina nods. “I have, Mother.”

  
  


“You…” Cora winces. “You have questions?”

  
  


“Yes. How did you know?” Regina wants to know exactly what her mother was planning all those years ago, wants to know _why_.

  
  


“I remember you having some…” She sighs and her eyes become unfocused, far away. “Did you know, I was once the daughter of the greatest heroines of the Janus civil war?”

  
  


“I did, you don’t have to tell me—” she stops herself. Her mother has spent months god-knows-where, suffering through her memories, and Regina will not offer salvation, won’t put her happiness at stake for her mother’s comfort. But she can listen. “Tell me.”

  
  


“My mother, Fiamma, fought against the monarchs in the center of Janus who left those of us on the outer reaches to starve,” Cora gives Regina a weak smile. “From what I can remember of her, she was beautiful, and had a propensity for fighting with fire. She would ride out to meet the king’s troops, and burn hundreds of them where they stood. It was glorious.”

  
  


Regina remains silent.

  
  


“Eventually my mother decided that she could not allow me to stay in such a war ravaged country. So she put my father and I on a horse, and sent us through the infinite forest. Before she died she ignited every man sent to capture her. ” Cora shakes her head fondly. “The last I heard of her was her laughter as my father and I raced through the forest, her fire lighting our way.” She looks fondly at Regina. “Decades later, I crossed the forest with you and your father.”

  
  


“I know, Mother.” She’s willing to listen to her mother’s history, but does not need to be told her own.

  
  


Cora continues. “I grew up in what was then only southern Janus, none of that east or west business. I was nine when we arrived in Ataecina, the same age you were when we had to leave.”

  
  


“Ataecina was my home. We were exiled because of your machinations, weren’t we?” Regina asks quietly, coming to terms with the fact that her mother is the root of her pain.

  
  


<>

  
  


“Regina,” Cora started. “I have plans for Ataecina.”

  
  


“Mother—”

  
  


Cora waved her hand, silencing Regina. “When I reached Ataecina, my name was Mills. I changed it to Molinero, simply to fit in with the other children. It wasn’t until a few years later when refugees from southwest Janus began to arrive, that a name like mine became more common. But I didn’t change it back until I was dealing with your grandfather, King Xavier. I…” she pauses. “I needed to appear to be part of some foreign nobility, though that failed. And when I married your father, I changed it back to Molinero. It was already known that I was a commoner by everyone in court, and I wouldn’t have them thinking I was more of a foreigner than was already obvious. I wanted you to be queen. And you will rule them one day.” She waved her hand again. “You may speak now.”

  
  


“I can’t rule Ataecina; we were exiled almost a decade ago,” Regina protested.

  
  


“Regina, you are the queen of Galabond. I have set plans in motion to make you the queen of two kingdoms at once, and many more after that, through the use of your son. He will have the blood of Galabond and Ataecina, the backing of Janus, and the right to the empty throne.” Her mother smiled. “Trust me.”

  
  


“Mother, you can’t be serious. Children aren’t tools. You wouldn’t kill all of those people, my family in Ataecina, just to put an infant on the throne.” She stared fearfully. “Would you?”

  
  


<>

“Yes.” Cora answers simply.

  
  


<>

  
  


“Those people never loved you, Regina. Where were they when you were nothing more than a squalling infant yourself?” Cora sneered. “By the time there is a throne to be taken, he will no longer be an infant, and will be under our control.” She placed a hand on Regina’s belly. “In the months you’ve spent moping about the castle, I’ve been planting the seeds.”

  
  


Regina moved out of her mother’s reach, struggling to her feet as the wind began to blow. “Mother, I can’t allow you to—”

  
  


“I will not let your ruin your future.” Cora snarled from her seat on the ground. “Don’t be selfish.”

  
  


Regina took a deep steadying breath, tried to control her anger, but she could not, there were injustices she would not see. She glanced at the pond, and saw the golden green scaly man again, twirling his fingers in a circle. In her head she heard a sound like thunder. _I will not_ _have them die at the hands of my mother, the king, those who have conquered me._ She would not allow her child to be raised like she had been.

  
  


There was a crack of thunder and the wind began to howl.

  
  


<>

  
  


The wind beside the dock is still, as though someone wants to hold onto these last few moments for as long as they can.

  
  


“How do you feel now, Mother?” Regina asks quietly. “Are you still set on conquering?”

  
  


Cora’s face hardens and her eyes go cold. She opens her mouth.

  
  


<>

  
  


“What is this?” Cora muttered, unsettled. She stood and faced the tornado, waving her hands, trying to stop it, but it only grew stronger.

  
  


Regina did not answer. She walked to one of the immobilized guards and grabbed his sword from his scabbard, arms straining under its weight. The wind blew her hair across her face, but she ignored it, walking back to where her mother stood. Raising the sword, she swung it at the back of her mother’s neck. It stuck there, and as Cora dropped to the ground, Regina fell on top of her, pushing the sword further into her mother’s neck, as the wind blew around her.

  
  


She stared at her mother’s still form, her knees on Cora’s back. There was blood dripping, on her hands, and her breath caught in her throat, heaving gasps of air. She screamed, and the sound overtook the thunder, as she set her hands on the blade of the sword and pushed, deeper into her mother’s neck. The index and middle finger of her left hand were sliced off and she howled with the wind, pressed harder into her mother’s neck, felt magic streaming down her arms.

  
  


When the blade touched grass, having completely severed her mother’s head, Regina scrambled off the body, remaining fingers twitching, eyes wide. She sat completely still as the tornado blew the guards, the bloody sword, her fingers, and the headless body up into the air and away. The wind began to die down.

  
  


Regina stared blankly as her mother’s head began to roll away, her fingers staining the grass with blood. She vomited, her throat burning as she gasped and cried into the sullied grass.

  
  


A golden green man stepped out of the pond and picked up Cora’s head. “Did quite a number on your mother, didn’t you?”

  
  


“Who are you?” Regina whispered.

  
  


“I am…here to help,” he said, bowing to her. “This is your mother’s head.” He held the head by its hair, the face stuck in a permanent expression of surprise. “These are rocks.” He held out his other hand, suddenly full of rocks from the river. “Stuff these in her mouth.”

  
  


“What?” She stared at him, utterly confused.

  
  


“If I were you, I’d ask why.” He said in a sing-song voice, mocking her. “If you don’t stuff the head, she’ll come to you when you are weak or tired, and twist your ears until you cry.”

  
  


Regina hesitantly reached for the head, mindful of her still bleeding finger stumps. She did not wish to defile the head, but if it would stop her mother from coming back to haunt her, she would. The man dropped the rocks in her left hand, and she took her mother’s head with her right. She quickly shoved the stones in the gaping mouth, looking away in disgust as she did.

  
  


“Here,” she said when she was done, offering the man the head. “I…I don’t want this.”

  
  


He grinned. “You will, one day. Would you like to learn to save yourself?”

  
  


She began to nod her head but clutched her belly, feeling a sharp pain. Gasping, she leaned over. “What’s happening?” she cried.

  
  


“Go home.” The man told her. “Or rather, go back to the palace.” He looked at her bowed form. “I’ll send you there myself, and come to teach you in the night.” He waved his hand, transporting her to the castle. “This will be your first lesson. All magic comes with a price.” Those were the last words she heard before the world went dark.

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina is sitting on a bench on the dock, staring at her left hand. Two of her fingers are stumps, long healed over, but the injury feels new, fresh in her mind. She jumps when she feels a hand on her shoulder, but it’s only Emma, who’s looking at her in concern.

  
  


“Are you okay?” Emma glances at Regina’s hand, but doesn’t blink. They’re nothing new, Regina’s always been missing those fingers.

  
  


“What are you doing here?” Regina asks quietly.

  
  


“Jack Nimble was on her tugboat and saw you….” Emma pauses, she can’t remember why she was so concerned that Regina was down at the docks by herself. She assumes it’s because when she woke up on the couch that morning, Regina was gone.

  
  


“Did she think I was plotting?”

  
  


“No.” Emma smiles. “She was worried for you.”

  
  


“Cora is dead. I beheaded her more than forty years ago.” Regina says, voice flat. “And I can’t remember why we cast the time spell in the first place.”

  
  


“I can’t either. What does that mean?”

  
  


“We likely cast it to get rid of her.”

  
  


“Does that mean it’s broken? Because the reason for casting it is gone?”

  
  


Regina smiles ruefully. “That’s not how this works. The original timeline still exists and in that one we probably cast the spell because of my mother. It can’t be broken that way.”

  
  


“Oh,” Emma sighs. She notices the tear tracks on Regina’s face. “Are you re-experiencing again?” she asks carefully.

  
  


“No. This is something I know.” Regina cradles her three-fingered hand. “I…I want to stay here. I think I’ve gone into labor, but I don’t yet know what happens…happened to the child.”

  
  


Emma sits down beside her. “Okay.” She takes Regina’s right hand in her own, and they stare out at the water, the wind blowing softly.

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina woke to whispering voices. Her father sat at her bedside, stroking her sweat soaked hair. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

  
  


“What happened?” Her was throat dry, her left hand was bandaged, and the space between her legs ached and throbbed.

  
  


Her father took her right hand. “You went into labor too early,” he said and she tuned him out, the look of pity on his face was enough to tell her what had become of her child. She did not know whether to feel relieved or heartbroken, so she felt both at once and wished her heart was not in her chest. Leopold walked in just as as the court physician carried a still and silent bundle from the room.

  
  


“I would like to talk to my wife,” he said. “Alone.”

  
  


“Very well.” Her father’s face crumbled and he squeezed her hand.

  
  


She squeezed back but did not let go, instead pulling him closer. “No matter what the king asks you, we are not from Ataecina,” she whispered into his ear. “Is that clear?” He nodded and left the room.

  
  


Once the door was closed, Leopold stared at her for a moment. “What happened?”

  
  


“I don’t remember.”

  
  


“Try.”

  
  


“I can’t. I am exhausted.” This is true. Her very soul aches and it’s all she can do to keep from collapsing completely.

  
  


He grit his teeth but nodded. “I will come and ask again after you have rested.” He began to leave the room.

  
  


“Wait,” she rasped. “I would like to name my son.”

  
  


“You may.” He said, his back to her.

  
  


She briefly considered naming the child Leopold, to spite the king. But the baby had been her son. “His name will be Giacomo.” She stared at the king. “Dead boys cannot conquer kingdoms.”

  
  


Leopold turned around quickly, glaring at her. “You have other cousins to name him after and we’ll have other sons.”

  
  


“I have no cousins.” She lied, pulling herself into a sitting position despite the soreness in her belly and between her thighs. “My parents are only children. We were minor nobles of a border town in northeast Janus. That is where I met you, and that is where I was born.”

  
  


“Are you saying your mother lied to Duke Valerio? To me?” The king asked incredulously.

  
  


“If you can find her, you may punish her as you see fit.”

  
  


Leopold took a deep breath his nostrils flaring. “You may not be an exiled princess of Ataecina. But you are still my wife and stepmother to my daughter, even if that’s all you are. I will send someone in to clean you.” He turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

  
  


Regina was left alone with her thoughts, with the smell of blood and her aching, empty body. “I will never give him sons.” She whispered to the silence of the room.

  
  


<>

  
  


Emma watches silently as Regina’s face goes from blank to heartbroken.

  
  


“He was stillborn,” is all she says.

  
  


“Oh.” Emma moves closer to Regina, wrapping her arm around her. “What did you name him?”

  
  


“Giacomo.” She laughs quietly, leaning onto Emma’s shoulder. “Like my mother wanted.” She begins to cry, but doesn’t know if she wants to; she feels relieved and heartbroken at the same time.

  
  


“Do you want me to kiss you?”

  
  


“No.” Regina shakes her head. “These…these aren’t memories that are attacking me. These are the ones that are going to stay in my head for the rest of my life and you can’t make them go away. I just want to go home.”

  
  


“Okay.” Emma stands and grasps Regina’s hands in her own, pulling her up and walking her away from the dock.

  
  


<>

  
  


Snow sat outside Regina’s quarters. She had heard that the child was stillborn, knew her father was inside questioning Regina, and was seconds away from bursting in and demanding an explanation when Leopold stalked out. He smiled softly when he saw her worried face and placed a hand on her shoulder.

  
  


“Don’t fret, Snow,” he said. “The queen is injured, though she will recover.” His eyes grew dark and his lips thinned. “ And eventually, you will have a brother.”

  
  


In that moment Snow resolved to find something, anything to prevent that from happening. “Why did Regina have the child so early?” she asked.

  
  


Her father sighed. “She was reticent when I asked her what happened. But the physician tells me that she was delirious while giving birth. She babbled on about a tornado and a golden green man with scales for skin.”

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


Regina enters the mansion and heads straight to the staircase. She hasn’t said a word since the docks.

  
  


Emma locks the door behind them and watches her go up the stairs.

  
  


From the top of the landing, Regina looks at Emma, eyes unfocused.

  
  


Understanding the silent communication, Emma hurries up the stairs and grabs her hand.

  
  


Regina walks to her bedroom door and opens it, staring at the bed inside. She leans against the doorjamb, slowly sliding to the floor, pulling her knees to her chest. She begins to cry. “It’s my house,” she says quietly.

  
  


“Yeah it is.” Emma sits beside her.

  
  


Regina takes a deep breath, her voice is strained. “There’s a disjoint in my memory…At one time I’m grieving the baby, at a later time I’m not, and I know that my…the baby’s existence in my memory is a result of the time spell. But I remember carrying him, and hating him, and maybe loving him.” Her eyes are teary as looks at Emma. “I can still grieve him.”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“I could have loved him,” Regina whispers.

  
  


“I know.” Emma says, pulling her close and holding her tightly.

  
  


<>

  
  


Regina stared up at the ceiling late into the night, trying to ignore the pain in her body, the guilt over her mother’s death and the overwhelming sense of fear that came from lying in her marriage bed. The air in the room shifted and the golden green man stood at the foot of her bed. She sat up quickly and winced in pain.

  
  


“What are you doing here?” she hissed angrily to hide her fear.

  
  


“I did say that I would teach you how to save yourself.” The man bowed. “And here I am.”

  
  


She lay back in her bed and attempted to appear as nonchalant as possible, but the strange man in her room had set her on edge. “I don’t see what the point of that would be.”

  
  


“Surely you don’t expect to spend the rest of your life here.” He grinned. “I can show you how to leave.”

  
  


“And how would you do that?”

  
  


“You can learn magic and better your situation. It is what saved you by the pond.”

  
  


She sat up and glared at him. “I never want to be like my mother. Or kill again. If that’s what magic is I would rather…”

  
  


“You would rather stay here, married to the king?” he smirked.

  
  


Taking a deep breath, she tried to stop herself from imagining the rest of her life with the king, tried to accept it, but could not. “Is…is all magic bad like my mother’s? Like what I did?” she asked quietly.

  
  


“No, no. There are many different kinds of magic. Your mother just chose to use hers in a way that was decidedly…dark,” he laughed. “I don’t think that what you did to your mother was _bad_ , more…passionate.”

  
  


“ _I beheaded her_.”

  
  


“Yes, and now you’re safe.” He glances at the door and smirks. “Safer than you were.”

  
  


“Can I…can I escape with magic?” She asked, allowing herself a small bit of hope.

  
  


“I will teach you all you need to know.”

  
  


“Can I learn how to bring back the dead?”

  
  


He raised his eyebrows. “Now what would you want to know that for?”

  
  


It wasn’t for the baby, she didn’t want to bring him back, even if she was now beginning to regret his death and the small bit of happiness he might have brought her. “My…a friend of mine died, and my mother preserved his body. She told me that if I was…good enough, he could be brought back to life.” She had pushed all thoughts of Daniel from her mind, couldn’t handle her guilt over his death, it had been _all her fault_. But now, if she could bring him back…

  
  


“Dead is dead, dearie.” He said, shaking his head, then tapping his chin. “I don’t know how to bring back them back…but I do know someone who might.”

  
  


When a desperate child is told something might save them, might save them becomes can save them and can save them becomes will save them. Regina felt her heart begin to mend at the possibility of a happy ending.

  
  


“You’ll teach me everything you know?” she asked.

  
  


“All you need to know.”

  
  


She nodded reluctantly. “What is your name?”

  
  


“Rumplestiltskin, at your service.”

  
  


“Rumpleshlitskin?”

  
  


“That’s not it.”

  
  


  
  


<>

  
  


Snow snuck onto the pavilion where Regina’s apple tree sapling resided. In the eight months since she had been trapped in the past, she had given up hope of ever being rescued. But her father’s description of Regina’s ramblings had reminded her of the one person who might be able to help.

  
  


“Rumplestiltskin!” she called.

  
  


He appeared in front of her, tilting his head, eyes bright with curiosity and cloaked malice. “How do you do, Snow White?”

  
  


“You got here fast,” she said.

  
  


“I was nearby. Now what is it you want?”

  
  


  
  



	9. As you are now

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW/CW: Murder, gore, blood, injuries, nosebleeds, triggers, mentions of stillbirth, heart problems. Changes made to chapter. 4/21/14

 

Late into the night Emma crouches beside Regina’s sleeping form. “Hey.” She shakes her shoulder gently. “Wake up.” Regina opens her eyes. She’s lying on the couch in her bedroom; it’s the first time she’s slept in there since the time spell was cast. It’s not her bed, but it’s close.

 

“Is there a reason you woke me?” she grumbles. “It’s still dark out.”

 

“Yeah, I know, sorry about that. August was on patrol and found some kid spray-painting the school. He and Ruby are already at the station, but I gotta go down there.”

 

Regina nods and sits up. “It’s fine,” she murmurs. “Do you need me to come with you?”

 

“No, I’ve got it.”

 

“Then I’ll see you in the _actual_ morning.”

 

“Alright.” Emma kisses her on the cheek and stands. She’s halfway to the door when she realizes what she’s done but quickly leaves the room anyway.

 

Regina blinks in surprise, but smiles sleepily, letting it pass. She briefly considers going back to sleep, but without Emma there she just doesn’t want to. She wonders when she became so used to her presence that the thought of sleeping without her in the same room seems wrong. She stretches and stands. She’ll make herself a cup of coffee and wait for the day to begin.

 

<>

 

“I need to make a deal,” Snow said to Rumplestiltskin.

 

He giggled and clapped his hands. “A little girl like you? What could you possibly need that I have, and what could you possibly have that I want?”

 

“I’m not a little girl.” She took a deep breath. “I’m twenty-six years old.”

 

“You don’t look it.”

 

“Well, I am,” she sighed. “I’ve been twelve before, here in Galabond. All this—” She gestured to her surroundings. “I’ve lived before.” She would not bring up the fact that the timeline had _changed_. But if Rumplestiltskin was around to teach Regina, maybe it had begun to right itself. After all, Emma’s heart was still beating. “This is all part of a time spell Regina cast more than forty years in the future.”

 

“So she does become my most talented student?” he asked, watching her curiously.

 

“Yes, she does,” Snow groaned. “But that’s beside the point. I’m trapped here, and I’d like to get back to the present as soon as possible. Can you help me?”

 

Rumplestiltskin twiddled his fingers. “Perhaps I can, if you’re not lying. You’ll owe me, dearie. You do understand that?” Snow nodded. “Then tell me how she sent you here.”

 

“I don’t…remember specifics,” Snow flushed. “I really only remember that she had Emma—”

 

“Who might Emma be? I’m not from the future, I’ll need names.”

 

Snow shivered, remembering the deal she’d made with him for information about the dark curse. She steeled her resolve, she needed to get back to Storybrooke, to Emma, David, and Henry. “She’s my daughter. She and Regina were the ones who cast the time spell.”

 

“This time spell…I’ve heard of nothing like it.”

 

“Regina created it. Or, she will create it.”

 

“Interesting…” He tapped his chin. “Do you have anything from it?”

 

Snow pulled Emma’s locket from underneath her night gown. “This locket Regina made. It has a lock of Emma’s hair and tells me if I’m changing the timeline too much.” She reluctantly placed it in Rumplestiltskin’s outstretched hands.

 

He put it to his ear. “This is a strong heart…magically strong.” He eyed her, grinning. “You do manage to find true love, then?”

 

She swallowed. “Yes.”

 

“Well then, I do believe I can help you.” He giggled. “For a price.”

 

“What do you want?”

 

“As soon as you arrive back where you came from…you are to find me, and tell me my name.” He flicked his wrist and a scroll appeared in one hand, a quill pen in the other. “Do we have a deal?” She signed her name and he smiled, snapping his fingers.

 

“Very well, here’s what I’ll do for you. I’ll put a spell on this here locket—” He shook it and she flinched.

 

“You can’t, you can’t affect the time spell with the locket.” She said, attempting to get it back.

 

He giggled and held it out of her reach. “ _You_ can’t, _I_ can. It’s the only thing connected to this time spell, besides your brain,” he smirked. “Which is utterly useless to me.”

 

“Fine,” She sighed. If it was the only way to get back to Storybrooke faster, then she would do it.

 

“Good. Now, it will make the time go faster, speed up your life a little more. Should carry you through your years. Just tap it to start, tap it to stop. But if you stop, you’re stopped. Do you understand?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then here you go.” He handed her the locket. “I _will_ be seeing you.” She blinked and he was gone.

 

 

<>

 

Regina sips her coffee though it’s too early for it. She still has absolutely no desire to go to sleep without Emma in the room, and this is the first night in months that it’s even a possibility. She’s not sure if she’s okay with that level of…need; Emma’s not her security blanket and she’s entirely too old to for one. She and Emma are friends, but there’s a line between friendship and whatever it is she and Emma are currently doing. She cares about Emma more deeply than she does most people, she might even _love_ her, but she’s only just started to think about what being in love with Emma _means_.

 

Unconsciously her left hand begins to touch her stomach; she realizes what she’s doing after a few second, so she flexes her fingers instead. She had fallen asleep by the door after crying for hours over Giacomo’s death. Emma must have put her on the couch by her bed after she tired herself out. Even though she knows that it happened decades ago, it feels fresh, feels new. She pushes away the thought that his existence might be completely because of the time spell; his death was still real, she has a faded brown line down her stomach, and light stretch marks surrounding it. She takes a deep breath. She'll talk to Archie about it at her next session. For now, the grief has faded to a quiet ache now; it’s been more than forty years since he died...

 

“Mom?” Henry wanders into the kitchen, groggy eyed. “What are you doing up?”

 

She smiles down at him, the child she managed to name and raise herself. “I wasn’t very tired tonight. Why aren’t you in bed?”

 

“I heard Emma leave, and I tried to go back to sleep. But then I heard you come downstairs.” He rubs his eyes.

 

“Why don’t you go back to bed?”

 

He smiles. “I’d rather stay up with you….and besides I want to ask you a question.”

 

“Alright.” She sets down her cup and leans back against the counter. “What is it?”

 

“You and Emma are friends right?”

 

“Yes.” She tilts her head at him, bemused.

 

He fidgets. “Are you like…really good friends?”

 

She’s beginning to get an idea of where Henry is going with his questions; she’s been thinking the same thing, and she’s not entirely sure she knows how to answer the one he’s building up to. “I suppose so, why do you ask?”

 

“You guys always sleep in the same room.”

 

Regina stares at her son, who’s looking at her shrewdly. “Henry—”

 

“Gramps said not to ask, that you guys would tell us when you were ready, but it’s been almost a year…”

 

She sighs. “Henry, you know when you slept over Diarra's—”

 

“Yeah, but you guys sleep together _every night_. That’s different from me and Diarra. He’s my friend.” He grins. “But he doesn’t sleep in the den with me all the time. And I don’t kiss him.”

 

“You know what the kisses are for, Henry.”

 

“She _used_ to sorta kiss you.” He points out. “Now she’s actually kissing you.”

 

“On the cheek.” Regina can’t recall when they switched from one type of kiss to another, or why it felt like the natural thing to do at the time. All she knows is that she can still feel the ghost of Emma’s breath across her cheek when she kissed her goodbye.

 

“Diarra’s parents kiss each other on the cheek.”

 

“Henry—”

 

“I’m just saying, Mom…it’s kinda…” He takes a deep breath. “Like you two are together…like you’re gay.”

 

“What’s wrong with being gay?” Regina asks sharply.

 

“Nothing.” Henry holds up his hands defensively. “I was just saying…I mean…are you and Emma gay? Like for each other?”

 

<>

 

“Will someone please tell me what he wrote?” Emma asks, running a hand through her hair in frustration. They’ve got the spray-painter, Peter Potts, at the station and while August is trying to get his parents to pick up the phone, Ruby and Peter are staunchly refusing to tell her what the graffiti said.

 

“Em, it was nothing, trust me,” Ruby says. “I told you, you didn’t have to come, we had it handled.”

 

“Yeah, I know, I just…” She had to get out of the house, it’s starting to close in on her, but this time she can’t just _leave_. She sighs. “Okay, clearly it wasn’t nothing if we arrested him.” Emma glares at Peter. “What did you write?”

 

“I’m _never_ gonna tell you,” he says defiantly, cheeks red. He’s a scrawny fifteen year old in a green sweatshirt, and his night just got so awkward, he was never supposed to get _caught_.

 

Emma groans. “August, any luck with his parents?”

 

“Uh, no.” He shrugs. “They’re just not picking up.” He puts down the phone and begins fiddling with a pen. Ruby is staring at a point on the wall, and Peter is studying his knees.

 

“Okay, what the hell did he write? Why won’t any of you look at me?” Emma asks, exasperated.

 

“Don’t worry about it, Sheriff, we can take care of this.” August looks at her earnestly. “Why don’t you just go back home?”

 

“I’d love to, but first I need to know what you’re gonna do about him.” She points to Peter. “He’s a minor, we can’t just leave him in the cell for the rest of the night.”

 

Peter pales. “If I tell you what I put on the wall, do you swear not to lock me up?”

 

Emma smiles. “Yep. Just tell me.” Ruby’s eyes widen and August begins shaking his head.

 

“I didn’t write anything…I drew something.” Peter pauses and looks at the deputies, both of whom are signaling that he should shut his mouth.

 

“Let him talk,” Emma snaps.

 

“I’ll tell you, but you gotta promise to call my mom right after, no matter what.”

 

“If you give deputy August her _real_ number, then we will.”

 

“Okay.” Peter takes a deep breath. “I painted you and the mayor kissing.”

 

Emma stares at him. “What?”

 

“You and the mayor. I didn’t get to finish before you guys found me, but I think it still kinda looks like you.”

 

“I…” Emma stares at her deputies who are refusing to meet her eyes. “He painted me kissing Regina? Why?”

 

Peter smirks. “You’re like the cutest couple in town.”

 

“I _told_ you people were talking, Emma,” Ruby mutters. “I mean, you’ve been living together for months, you share a kid, you spent like a month holed up in the mansion with her…I’ve never seen you kissing, but I _know_ I saw you two holding hands.”

 

“That’s…I…we’re friends.”

 

Ruby rolls her eyes. “Yeah, you guys are friends. Really close friends that live in the same house, and smile at each other when you think no one else is watching, and smell the same all the fucking time.” She glances at Peter who shrugs. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you two were sleeping together.”

 

Emma flushes furiously, and her deputies and Peter stare at her open-mouthed. “We’re not _sleeping together_ , we’re just…sleeping in the same room…you know what, I don’t know why this is any of your business.”

 

“I mean.” August shrugs, more relaxed now that they’re all openly talking. “It’s cool if you guys are more than friends. You don’t have to lie about it.”

 

“I’m not _lying_ , you’re the liar,” Emma says petulantly. She and Regina are just _friends_ , they’re just helping each other out, it’s only practical. Even if she doesn’t think she could get to sleep without hearing Regina’s soft snores next to her, even if she has all of her things, and her _father_ at Regina’s house, even if they’re raising a kid together, even if she trusts Regina more than anyone else in town. Even if she kissed Regina goodbye when she left for the station because she kind of _loves_ her.

 

“Fuck,” Emma groans. Somehow she managed to get into some bizarre relationship with Regina, which probably only worked because neither of them noticed. “ _Fuck._ ”

 

“I didn’t paint you doing that,” Peter says. “Can you call my mom?”

 

 

<>

 

Snow tapped the locket and found herself spinning, her life passing before her eyes in a whirl of balls, banquets, pretty dresses, and Regina’s increasingly hostile looks. She felt herself grow taller, inch by inch and then three inches at once as she hit her mid teens. She danced with her father at every ball as Regina looked on in the background, and it wasn’t jealousy on her face, it had never been jealousy. It was rage and hurt and Snow could not help but fear that her attempt to evade Regina’s wrath had failed.

 

<>

 

Regina finds herself at a loss as to how to explain her current relationship with Emma to Henry. However, she’s quickly saved from answering when blood spurts from her nose.

 

“Mom!” Henry screams. “You’re bleeding, and your eyes are bright red!”

 

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” she says, placing her right hand underneath her nose to stem the flow of blood. “It’s just a nose bleed.”

 

David dashes into the kitchen, drawn in by the sound of screaming. “What’s going on, what’s wrong?” he asks.

 

“Nothing,” Regina says exasperated. “It’s just a little—” she stops and clutches her head, as it suddenly begins to pound.

 

“Are you okay, Regina?” David asks.

 

“I’m fine, it’s just…I might have burst a blood vessel, and my nose is bleeding, and I have a headache. That’s it.”

 

David nods. “We should take you to—”

 

“I don’t want to go see Emma,” Regina snaps. It’s one thing to need Emma, and another to have everyone else know how much she needs Emma. Besides that, she’s not ready to fully parse her relationship with Emma; she’s only just realized that it might actually _be_ a relationship, one based on trust and friendship, and they might have accidentally built a _home_ together.

 

“I was actually thinking we should head to the hospital, this time travel stuff could be messing with your head,” David says.

 

Regina looks at Henry’s earnest face and nods.

 

<>

 

“I think I need to sit down.” Emma says, clutching at her chest, her heart is racing, speeding. She takes a deep breath to steady herself, but it fails completely.

 

“It’s not that big a deal, Emma, I mean—”

 

“Shut up, August,” Ruby snaps, looking closer at Emma’s face. “What’s wrong?”

 

“My heart…” she pants. “It’s…it’s going too fast.”

 

“Okay.” Ruby turns to August. “You look after Peter, I’m gonna take Emma to the hospital.” She easily lifts Emma into a bridal carry and begins to head out the door.

 

“Wait,” Emma huffs. “I…I need to call Regina. I gotta tell her I might not make it home.” She wheezes and tries to stop herself from crying, she’s not going to cry in front of her deputies and that punk kid. Her heart skips another beat, it’s going way too fast. She swallows a lump in her throat, she can’t die, not when she might actually have a thing with Regina, not when she has a _home_.

 

<>

 

Snow smiled. She was on her way home, time sped up even faster, months passing by in minutes. Suddenly, she saw the genie from across the pavilion, and realized her father was about to die. She quickly tapped the locket and time slowed back to its regular pace. She stood in her bedroom, eighteen years old and only a few hours away from becoming an orphan.

 

<>

 

“Emma!” Henry yells, running across the reception area of the hospital to where Emma’s rolling her wheelchair.

 

“Kid, what are you doing here? Why aren’t you asleep? ” she asks, looking around frantically for David and Regina.

 

“Mom had a bad nose bleed, and her eyes turned red, and she said her head hurt, so Gramps brought her here. Why are you here?” He looks her over, a worried frown on his face.

 

“It’s nothing, really.”

 

“Then why are you in a wheelchair?”

 

“I…” she sighs. “I had a little heart trouble, but it stopped. Where’s your mom?”

 

“She’s in her own room, I was just going to get her a snack.”

 

“Why don’t you go find Ruby? She was in the cafeteria.” Emma stands up shakily from the wheelchair. “I’m gonna go see Regina.” Henry nods and runs off, as Emma walks to the door he pointed to. She pushes it open, and Regina’s lying in the hospital bed, eyes closed. Emma takes a deep shuddering breath, Regina looks too small here, too fragile in that bed, like she could break any moment.

 

“If you’re not Henry, or Dr. Whale _with_ my discharge papers, you will regret entering,” Regina says, lips pressed into a thin line.

 

Emma grins. “Well, what about me?” Regina’s eyes fly open.

 

“What are you doing here?” she asks softly. Her heart swells at Emma, but she can’t help notice how shaky she seems, how pale.

 

“Uh, I had some heart palpitations. But I think they’re gone now—”

 

“What?” Regina sits up in bed, staring at her. “Why aren’t you sitting down?”

 

Emma shrugs. “I left the wheelchair they gave me in the hall.” They didn’t really _give_ her the wheelchair, she more took it so she could leave her room without possibly collapsing in the hallway.

 

“Come here.” Regina scoots over in bed, making space. Emma lays down beside her, glad that she doesn’t have to stand up anymore. “Did you see Henry?”

 

“Yeah, I sent him to the cafeteria. He should be there with Ruby.” She takes a deep breath. “So…I heard you had some problems too,” she says nonchalantly.

 

“Yes…I think they had something to do with the time spell and your heart—” She shoots Emma a worried glance. “Confirms my suspicions.”

 

“What do you think happened?” Emma asks, leaning into Regina.

 

“I think Snow sped up time…Somehow.”

 

“What?”

 

Regina sighs. “Yesterday I think I remembered killing my mother.” She looks at Emma for confirmation. “But tonight…I think tonight is the night the king dies.” Regina says quietly.

 

“Oh. So this is her fault? My heart…thing, and your bloody thing?” Emma asks, stifling her rising anger, the time spell fucking up is Snow’s fault and now she might be erased from existence and Regina might bleed to death or something, her eyes are still bright red, and it’s _Snow’s fault_.

 

“Yes. She’s probably trying to get here faster, but…it’ll only end badly. If she tries it again it could be worse…for the both of us. I don’t think we could handle eight years.”

 

“What do you mean eight years? I thought we had fourteen?”

 

“Snow _sped up time_. I was married to the king for six years. Now we only have eight years left before the dark curse hits.” Emma stiffens but Regina continues, only stopping to squeeze her hand. “Besides that, Snow could have continued speeding up time all the way to the time the dark curse was cast. But she didn’t. I think she plans to save him, which means I’ll likely be killed for plotting it.” The possibility of Snow causing her death in the past was never something they’d considered, Snow had the locket, that never should have been a problem. If Regina dies, so does Emma…and _Henry_. Regina takes a deep steadying breath.

 

Emma balks and begins to protest, but then remembers that her mother changed the timeline, all so that a younger Regina wouldn’t know she couldn’t keep a secret. “If she makes it so you don’t kill him…or even if you do kill him, do you want me to kiss you now? So you won't have to re-experience whatever happens because of it?” Regina won’t be going through it alone, but really Emma would rather she didn’t have to go through it at all.

 

Regina stares at the wall for a moment. “No, I'll need to know...what will happen if she doesn't let me kill him. Even if she does...I still have to watch all that I did later.” she says. She thinks she loves Emma, certainly cares about her, and this feels like this might be the beginning of an end; both of them stuck in the hospital with no real way to save themselves. So Emma has to know, has to understand.

 

“Regina, I said I'd always—”

 

“Emma,” she takes a deep breath. “I…care about you. So I want you to understand. I cast the dark curse, and if Snow doesn’t screw up the timeline anymore, I will cast it again. I will never regret it. It led me to Henry and.” She pauses and prepares to come clean. “Eventually to you.” Emma’s eyes widen but Regina continues. “If the king does die soon, …I will become truly ruthless. You only kissed me when I was suffering at the hands of my mother, or the king.” She smiles bitterly. “Are you still going to want to do that when I’m the one to bring about the suffering?”

 

<>

 

Snow ran to her father’s study. She would not hide in her father’s wardrobe, she would confront him head on, for what he had done to Regina, the kind of monster he had always been. She would make up for doing nothing while it happened, clear her conscience. Throwing open the door she stormed in, only to stop short as her father smiled up at her from his armchair, closing the book he had been reading.

 

“Snow,” he said. “You should be asleep, it’s quite late.”

 

She faltered but steeled her resolve. She would not stop Regina from killing him; the timeline needed to stay in order for Emma to survive, and Regina…what his death meant to Regina was probably worth more than anything he had ever given her. “Father…I think it’s time that you and Regina went your separate ways.”

 

He furrowed his brow. “What do you mean?”

 

“I’m not a child anymore. I don’t need a stepmother, and it’s clear to me that’s she’s miserable being married.” She wanted to convince him to let Regina go, not so that he wouldn’t have to die, just so that when he did, she could have some fond, untainted memory of him.

 

“I can’t do that,” he said, smiling indulgently. “You may not need a mother, but as king I cannot just give away my queen.”

 

Snow balked. “Father, she’s not a piece of furniture. You don’t give her away. Just…let her be happy. You have to see that she’s not happy.”

 

“I do realize that she’s unhappy,” he said sharply. “But as King, I must be seen as absolute in my rule, and that includes within my own household. Do you know how it would seem, to have been married to her for six years, only for my court, and the courts of the other kingdoms to see that I could not keep my own queen happy? It would reflect badly on my rule. How I treat my family is an extension of how I would treat my subjects.”

 

“Then you should treat her well!” Snow snapped. “You should have, but you did not, and now—”

 

“Snow!” Her father cut her off. “That is enough. You don’t know the relationship between your stepmother and I, and quite frankly it’s none of your concern.” He opened the book again. “It’s time you went to bed.”

 

She nodded, swallowed back her anger, gave up on her father and left the room. She would let him die, and would not mourn him a second time.

 

 

<>

 

“Regina,” Emma begins, shifting closer to her on the hospital bed; if their time is running out, if Snow ends up _killing them_ , she’s gonna forgive everything just so if she has to die, she leaves on a high note. “You were ruthless and you killed people, like a lot of people.” Regina stares straight ahead at the wall and nods her head firmly. “But now…you’re a good mom to Henry. And a good mayor to the town. And…I care about you.” Regina stares at her. “I care about you, and I said, no matter what, if you ask me to take away your memories, I will. I…care about you too. And I’m glad I’m with you, _as you are now_ , here in this hospital bed.” She smiles nervously and Regina gives her a small smile in return.

 

They sit quietly for a moment. “How did this happen?” Regina mutters.

 

“What?”

 

“I mean,” she sighs. “How did we end up…caring about each other?” What she wants to ask, _is when did touching you become easy, when did a kiss from you become the most natural thing in the world, when did your presence become something I missed the most? When did it become the thing I am most likely to lose?_

 

“I…I guess it just happened, it was kind of like…God this is gonna sound really fucking sappy, but it was kinda like falling? I didn’t mind it while it happened, even when I didn’t really notice.” She shrugs self-consciously. “I don’t know, I didn’t pay attention to it until…tonight. It was just…us.”

 

“I think I noticed it,” Regina says quietly. “But I didn’t want to make anything of it because…I couldn’t handle it, not then.”

 

“Yeah.” Emma nods. “I…yeah.” She runs a shaky hand through her hair. “I care about you, but I get if you don’t want to make anything of it.” She doesn’t know herself if she wants to do anything with it; this morning she’d ditched the house because it felt too small, but now their lives may be too short _not_ to do something about it.

 

“Before I started bleeding…Henry asked me if we were ‘gay for each other’.”

 

Emma’s eyes bulge. “He did?” Regina nods. “Some kid spray-painted a picture of us kissing on the side of the school.”

 

“What?” Regina hisses. “Which one?”

 

“Peter Potts.”

 

Regina immediately grins. “He’s never going to grow up,” she laughs to herself.

 

“What? No one’s getting older, I don’t get—”

 

“He was Peter Pan.”

 

Emma rolls her eyes. “I left him at the station with August. Can you wave your hand or something and have that graffiti taken down?”

 

“I think…we can do this,” Regina says abruptly. She doesn’t actually know if they can do it, but she _wants_ to, doesn’t want to chance that she might lose Emma before they get anywhere, and maybe that will be enough.

 

“What?”

 

“We can make this work. We can…be together.”

 

Emma grins. “Yeah?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Uh…then,” Emma huffs. “Can I kiss you? Like on the lips? It doesn’t have to be with magic if you don’t want me to do it like that.” Regina nods. “So no magic?”

 

“No magic. If Snow decides to save her father…we’ll need to know. It could potentially destroy any hope of her sticking to the original timeline. I will likely be executed if the king doesn’t die. The town would be gone…You may cease to exist. _Henry_ could disappear.” She squelches the terror in her chest. The possibility of Henry just not existing is unfathomable; she could lose another child and never _remember him at all_. “And if she speeds up time again it could—” She glances at Emma’s chest. “Your heart might mess up. I may have another…I may begin to bleed again. It could be a death sentence for us both. Snow would feel your heartbeat leave her, and she might be able to fix it but— ” Regina sighs in frustration. “There are just too many variables to know for certain.”

 

Emma nods. “Okay.” She leverages herself up on the bed, and looks into Regina’s eyes, before leaning down and pressing her lips softly against Regina’s.

 

The door bursts open and Dr. Whale steps through, just as Emma and Regina pull apart. “I have your discharge papers,” he says absently.

 

“Discharge?” Emma stares at her. “Regina, you can’t leave, you were bleeding, and you popped a blood vessel, you’ve got to stay overnight at least,” she says, her cheeks still flushed from the kiss.

 

“I’m fine now, Emma. I’m perfectly capable of going home.”

 

“But—”

 

“I have yours as well, Sheriff,” Dr. Whale interrupts. “I’ll deliver them to you here, since you decided to just up and leave your room.”

 

Regina glares at her. “You had heart problems, you should be watched over night.”

 

“It was because of the time spell, and I’m fine now.”

 

“Yes, but what if—”

 

“Actually,” Dr. Whale interrupts them again. “I’d prefer if you both stayed over for observation, at the very least. But then I’m just the town doctor, and both of you did threaten me, so what do I know?”

 

Emma looks at Regina: her eyes are still dark red and there’s a small dot of blood beneath her nose. Regina looks at Emma’s too pale face and shaking hands.

 

Regina sighs. “I’ll stay if you do.”

 

“Deal.”

 

“Then, I’ll just shred these. I’ll send a nurse in to check on you…” He smirks. “It looks like you’ll be fine with just the one bed.” He turns on his heel and leaves.

 

“I think he was drunk.” Emma says, watching Whale leave the room.

 

Regina scowls, but her face softens when she looks at Emma. “How’s your heart?” she asks.

 

“Fine. How’s your head?”

 

“Getting better.” Regina hovers her left hand over Emma’s chest. Emma grabs it and pushes it down, so Regina can feel her heartbeat.

 

“It’s doing fine,” she says quietly. She keeps Regina’s hand to her chest, leans up and kisses her on the forehead. “Should we get Henry or…?”

 

“Yes, but…I don’t want to tell him something might happen to us,” she says. “…If Snow saves her father...if the king lives, I die, you die, and he dies…but not immediately. If she speeds up time, we may have time before…I don’t want him to worry…” She gives Emma a small, sad smile. “If it…if we…I think we’ll have time to say goodbye. We shouldn’t give him cause to worry constantly after this if it turns out fine. He should be coming back from the cafeteria soon.”

 

“What about later? If we survive tonight? I mean Henry—” They haven’t talked about it at all; Henry not existing is too big, too scary, too much to fathom.

 

“We don’t tell him. We’ll…we’ll break the spell before that even becomes a problem.” Regina says firmly.

 

Emma nods. “So we wait.”

 

They smile at each other, their last goodbyes on their tongues.

 

<>

 

Later that night, when Snow awoke to the sound of screaming, and cries for the guards, she knew her father had died.

 

<>

 

A few hours later, Regina blinks and smiles. She glances at Henry, fast asleep on a chair by their bed, before tapping Emma on her chest. When she opens her eyes, Regina is grinning, actually grinning. “The king is dead,” she whispers, careful not to wake Henry. “Now, I think you can kiss me.” She doesn’t know if Emma will want to, if everything she said still stands if they’re not going to die immediately.

 

They could still die soon. Emma grins back as her heart thumps calmly in her chest, and presses her lips firmly against Regina’s.

 

<>

 

The next night, Snow stepped out onto the pavilion again. She looked around, knowing it would be the last time in a long while that she would be there. “Rumplestiltskin!” she called. She blinked and he was there.

 

“It’s only been six years, what could you possibly want now, dearie?” he asked, rapidly tapping his foot.

 

“It’s been less than two days for me. The locket won’t speed up time again, I’ve tried.”

 

He giggled and shook his head. “Once it’s stopped, it’s stopped. I thought you understood. You already owe me one favor, dearie, and I won’t need another from you at this point in time.”

 

“What am I supposed to do?” she asked, frustrated.

 

“Continue on with your life,” he said. “Try not to screw things up.”

 

<>

 

Two days after the death of the king, Queen Regina stood on her balcony staring out across the kingdom she had earned with her spilled blood and tears, finally hers to rule.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. She felt the gulf in her chest expand; she was free, and all the lands would rue the day she had been caged.

 

Stalking into her new study, just off the throne room where her magic mirror hung, she waved her left hand, and the ashen head of her husband appeared beside her mother’s, over the mantle. She smiled. She had buried the king headless, and with him went all the ways he’d wronged her.

 

“Is that wise, your majesty?” her mirror asked.

 

“ As far as it’s known, I didn’t kill him. You did.” She smirked. “What I chose to do with his body after he’s dead is no concern of his former subjects. They are mine now.”

 

“Mirror,” she said, a cruel smiling curling at corners of her lips. “Show me a killer as ruthless as I. There’s a princess I need to dispose of.” She would not have a usurper in her kingdom. Her mouth twisted bitterly at the thought of Snow White, the spoiled princess who lived her carefree childhood in the castle, in the same castle that had been her hell. Rage thundered in her heart but she allowed it to quiet. The girl had been vapid, had clung to her father, never questioned his treatment of her stepmother. After their first meeting, Regina had watched the girl grow cold and distant, barely speaking to her, avoiding her at all times. She hadn’t known about Daniel’s death, wasn’t at fault for it; but she had known Giacomo died, and still said nothing, treated Regina like she was _nothing_.

 

Regina took a deep breath. She would have the girl killed quickly…but mercifully. She would be ruthless, but not cruel. It was after all, nothing personal.

 

 

<>

 

Two days later, while Henry’s at school, Rumplestiltskin arrives at the hospital, limping into their room. “I have good news,” he says, grinning widely, eyes sparkling.

 

“What?” Regina snaps.

 

“Well if you’re going to be rude, perhaps I just won’t tell you,” he says, feigning offense.

 

“Look, just tell us, will you?” Emma groans. They’d been in the middle of another make-out session when he knocked on their door.

 

“Snow White, has sped through time, with my help of course.” He folds his hands over his cane.

 

“Is that supposed to be good news?” Regina glares at him. “We’re in the hospital for just that reason.”

 

“The good news, is that she won’t do it again.” he says.

 

“How do you know?” Emma leans forward. If Snow doesn’t speed up time, she and Regina have a chance of possibly not dying horrifically. “And why did you even agree to do it the first time? _How_ did you do it?”

 

Rumplestiltskin shrugs. “I knew when she’d stop it, and knew you wouldn’t die from just a few years. Her speeding through time had no affect on _my_ life, and I got a deal in return,” he grins. “And how I did it is just one of the many things you’ll never understand.”

 

“Get out.” Regina snarls.

 

“No ‘thank you’? Very rude indeed. I suppose I’ll just leave you to your sick bed, then.” He says and turns on his heel and hobbles out, leaving the door open behind him.

 

Emma groans. “I’m gonna have to get up and close that.”

 

“I’ve got it.” Regina mutters and waves her hand, slamming the door.

 

“So…does this mean we’re not gonna die?” Emma asks.

 

“It means we won’t die from the effects of Snow speeding up time, yes. But…Snow can still do something to the timeline that causes me to die, or you and Henry not to exist. I didn’t think she would, she _has_ the locket, but if she screws it up…we may disappear entirely.” Regina answers quietly, leaning back on the bed.

 

“Alright.” Emma slings her arm around Regina’s shoulders. “So we just have to break the time spell before she does, and it’ll all be fine.”

 

Regina nods. “Yes. It’ll all be fine.” She can’t know for sure, but she doesn’t want to say so; doesn’t want to admit that if something were to happen, they, as they are now, would be struck from existence until Snow slots herself back into when the time spell was cast. It’s too much to expect of Snow, who has _never_ proven trustworthy, and they can’t just lay all of their hopes on her shoulders. They’ll have to fix it themselves.

 

 

<>

 

Three nights later, immediately after they’ve both been released from the hospital, Emma and Regina go straight to the fire station.

 

“This is your surprise?” Regina asks, unimpressed.

 

“No.” Emma rolls her eyes. “The surprise is that we’re gonna take the fire truck out for a ride.”

 

“What?” Regina stares at Emma like she’s grown a second head. “I’m not doing stealing a firetruck. The town puts up with my rule, I don’t need them to see me flagrantly breaking the law.”

 

“Relax, Regina.” Emma grins. “We’re not gonna take it. I called and got permission form the fire chief. If there actually is a fire or something, the call goes to my cell, we poof down, and wave the fire away.”

 

“You mean I’ll wave it away, while you shoot at it?” Regina rolls her eyes, but smiles. “Alright.” Emma grins and pulls out her lock-pick set, inserting them into the lock and jiggling the doorknob. “Emma,” Regina calls.

 

“Hold on, Regina, let me do this.”

 

“Emma.”

 

“What?” Emma is exasperated, she just wants to show Regina how incredibly cool her lock-picking skills are. Regina waves her hands and the door opens on its own. “Show off.” Emma mumbles but steps inside. She stares at the fire truck. “Hold on, this is all wrong.”

 

“What’s wrong with it?” Regina asks.

 

“It’s a yellow firetruck, everyone knows these are supposed to be red.” Emma bends over and kisses the side of the firetruck, and it turns red in a bright flash of light. “There.”

 

“You didn’t have to kiss it.” Regina smirks. “You could have just at shot it.”

 

“Whatever.” Emma says. “Come on, get in.”

 

“Can you drive this thing?” Regina asks skeptically.

 

“Yep, it’s a stick-shift.” She opens the door. “Mayors first.”

 

Regina rolls her eyes but climbs in, scooting over to give Emma space to drive. “I don’t see how this is supposed to be a date,” she says.

 

“Just hold on, it’ll be good, I promise.” Emma starts the engine and pulls out of the station. “I’ve got David coming by in ten minutes to shut the doors, don’t worry.” They drive in companionable silence, Regina watching the quiet little town go by. It’s her home now, and likely will be for a while. It’s not a castle, and she is trapped, but it’s with people who she loves, and who care about her in return.

 

“Alright,” Emma says. “We’re here.”

 

Regina starts in surprise. They’re all the way out by McConnell’s farm. “What are we doing here?”

 

“You’ll see. Hold on.” Emma pushes a button, and there’s a loud mechanical noise.

 

“Romantic,” Regina says sarcastically, but she’s smiling.

 

Emma rolls her eyes, opens the door and hands Regina out. “Okay, so we need to get up there.” She points and grins. “Watch this, I learned to transport without shooting myself.” She grabs Regina’s hand, holds it tightly and poofs them up to the hydraulic platform.

 

Inside are two chairs on opposite sides of a small table, which has a basket on the top. Regina looks around in wonder. They’re a good forty feet up in the air. On the left, Regina can see the far reaches of Storybrooke’s forest. On the right is Storybrooke itself, the lights of the town illuminating the night, but not overshadowing the stars out near McConnell’s farm.

 

Regina swallows and smiles wider. “Emma, this is beautiful.”

 

“Thanks,” she grins. “I had to make some modifications to the platform to fit all of this in here. I’m glad you like it.”

 

Regina looks Emma in the eye. “Thank you.” She leans over and presses her lips firmly against Emma’s, kissing her high above Storybrooke. She pulls back and takes a deep breath. “I love you,” She says calmly, seriously. She doesn’t want the end to come without it being said, they could still disappear from existence and she doesn’t want to without Emma knowing that she loves her.

 

Emma blinks in surprise and grins widely. “Thank god, _fuck_ , I thought I was gonna have to say it first.” She sighs in relief. “I love you too.” She looks out across the town. “I think everything is going to get better now.” She doesn’t _know_ , eight months and she stills feels like she knows nothing at all, they don’t know how to break the time spell and doubt still creeps into her chest. All she knows for sure is that she loves Regina, and that will have to be enough.

 

Regina doesn’t say a word, just leans over and kisses Emma again. Her lips feels like home, however long it lasts.

 

 

End Part One

 


End file.
